#i am stupid all the time. i forget basic things. I have to have people retell me things twice before they click

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Whumpers, what are your earliest memories?

Mine is from when I was about two or three. I was in a stroller, at my cousin’s Irish dancing recital. After the recital, my aunts were talking down to me in the stroller, and to each other. I was experiencing extreme anxiety because I couldn’t understand what they were saying, when I felt I should have been able to communicate with them like they were communicating with each other. I was also very tired and dazed. I did not cry though… I probably looked normal on the outside.

I also remember when I was about four or five, I went to the beach with my dad and one of his friends. I somehow found my way onto the dock, planted my little rear end on a jet ski, untethered it from the dock, and started floating into the sunset. There was an old lady lounging in a donut inflatable out some way; she said something to me, but I couldn’t understand what she said, despite trying really hard. I’m assuming it was something along the lines of “Oh my god get off that jet ski you’re going to fucking DIE, kid,” but again… couldn’t understand a word of what she said, and got frustrated because she was speaking English (without an accent) and I should know how to understand adults speaking English to me.

At this point, my dad is yelling at me from across the water, and a young lifeguard drags the jet ski back. On land, my dad lectured at me very harshly as he led me back to the car. I didn’t know I had done anything wrong, and was very confused. At some point this guy starts quoting the Bible at me, and the only thing I could pick out were the words (spoken very emphatically), “Your days are numbered.”

“My days are numbered?” cue a vivid mental image of a calendar, with dates listed for every day of the week, “What does that mean?” Later on I figured out this was the Bible’s way of referencing death at God’s hand which just made me even more confused as to what I did, until at age thirteen, I figured out, “Oh a baby who can’t swim floating on a jet ski is terrifying, actually.”

Tagging: @kaleidoscopr @redd956 @hereissomething @astudyinpanda @c0ldbrains @straight-to-the-pain

[alolan-weavile]

oooooh i am deeply unhappy actually

[astrologysaysno]

I keep giggling at 1 am in the morning about the idea of an A/B/O SVSSS Au where Shang Qinghua is an omega but absolutely sucks at it.

So imagine that he's presents as an omega, but to Shang Qinghua, he can't seem to feel it. Everyone else seems to feel his 'omega-ness' when he presented, so it's probably just him that can't feel the change. The system himself said that he was an omega (A/B/O was never canon, so Airplane wouldn't have thought about what secondary gender SQH was) so he just has to roll with it.

The rest of his story is just him flubbing and epicly failing at this whole Omega thing. Even his system has given up.

His Non-A/B/O first life as Airplane has left his brain incompatible with his body, the motor skills and instincts that you're supposed to have going with your secondary gender are out of the picture, it is not built into his mainframe, so he's basically a de-facto beta with extra no second gender psychologically speaking.

His superiors are keeping a wary eye on him, his fellow peers a wash of mixed reactions to his overall behaviour, worried about who he is and his complete disregard for norms or basic instincts.

He appears completely scent blind to pheromones, nor does he seem to be able to control his own. His master remembers a time where he was the unfortunate victim of two aggressive alphas fighting in the dorms, causing so much havoc they ended up breaking his inkbrush.

The scent from him when it broke was so acrid and sharp they immediately ceased, though he seems to be none the wiser, acting in his usual cowardly manner while shakily asking them to stop.

His martial brothers have never seen him nest in all of the years he's been on the peak. Not a single piece of clothing, not anything comfortable. He simply had a single pillow and a blanket for cold nights as he dozed off. It doesn't help that he avoids everyone like the plague, so even if he tried, he didn't even have anything to build one with

(The system tried to give him the task of making a nest, and he completely misunderstood, building an actual bird nest on his mattress. The system decided not to give nor take points, simply choosing to shame their host for this stupidity. Shang Qinghua keeps it by the windowsill, a memento for unintentionally spiting fate and living.)

In comparison to the rest of his fellow An Ding Disciples, he's antisocialism incarnate, zero bonds that connect him to anyone. (Shang Qinghua can't afford that, not unless he wants the weight of people on his conscience when he betrays his sect.)

It's kind of like that one classmate everyone is familiar with, but no one actually knows them. They just see him in class and forget the rest. He's scarily competent in group works and is capable of working with people, but he's never gonna respond to your text to hangout after the project is submitted and graded.

His master sees this as a detriment. How is he going to be able to have healthy relations with his future pack as a peak lord if he can't seem to get the initiative to actually communicate and bond with them.

So he coordinates a trial run with the Bai Zhan and Qing Jing Peak to help their own head disciples get a grip. A mission to be given to them to get them to open up and become closer as friends.

It backfires tremendously, only ending with the three of them becoming more prickly or antisocial. Only the most formal of greetings will ever seem to come out of Shen Jiu's mouth now, barely hiding his sharp demeanour. Liu Qingge seems to be at least willing to talk to others now, but his relation ship to the future leader of Qing Jing has now soured.

And Shang Qinghua is now more apathetic to the idea of bonding to his future pack, rathering to become completely detached from them.

(Shang Qinghua is destined to be a traitor, so why should he allow himself to experience the cruelty of betraying someone he cares about. It would be kinder this way)

[Love the fact that I just went absolutely everywhere with no coherent thoughts. Enjoy the word vomit I guess.]

[The random sequel I wrote is here]

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically

☆word count: 7.3k

☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 4th  

You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook. 

Just a friend from high school…

You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.

You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…

It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.

Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.

Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.

Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?

You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.

As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.

[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight

You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…

Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.

You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.

You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.

And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,

[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time

You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.

You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.

It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?

What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?

Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.

There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.

You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.

You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.

It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity. 

You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…

It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying. 

You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.

You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.

[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy

It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?

Was it all just a nightmare?

You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.

[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever

You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…

You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.

When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.

Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.

He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.

The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.

“Hey,” he greets you.

You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.

His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”

You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes?” he lets out.

He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.

“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.

“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”

“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”

Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.

“Nothing happened,” he tries.

But he doesn’t meet your gaze.

“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Peach…”

You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.

“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”

He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.

“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.

You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”

A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.

“I really thought…” 

You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.

“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”

“But you did!”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.

“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it. 

You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.

“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.

“Peach…”

“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”

“Excuse me?”

Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”

“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”

“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.

“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”

“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”

You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.

You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”

“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”

“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.

You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down. 

“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”

You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.

“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.

Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.

“Peach, please.”

“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”

“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.

It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.

“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.

“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.

You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you. 

Not after last night.

“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.

You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.

But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?

“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Peach…”

“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.

You can’t afford him calling you that.

He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”

You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.

You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?

You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.

*****

The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.

You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.

You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.

You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.

“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.

“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.

“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.

In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?

“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.

You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.

You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.

It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.

You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.

If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.

You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.

“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.

Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.

“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.

You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Jacob.”

She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”

You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again. 

“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”

And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.

After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.

She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.

You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.

Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs. 

You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”

You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”

Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.

She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”

You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.

You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom. 

The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.

“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.

She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”

You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”

Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”

And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.

Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.

Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left. 

This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.

It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.

You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.

It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.

It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.

You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.

“Shit,” you let out.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.

“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”

“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“I want to go home,” you tell her.

She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.

“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.

But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.

She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.

It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.

You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.

Tuesday, May 7th 

You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.

He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane. 

You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.

[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos

You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.

You reckon that might make you a bad person.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning. 

You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.

You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.

“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”

He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.

She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.

As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.

As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.

It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.

What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.

You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”

Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”

You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

You shrug. “Just wondering.”

Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.

The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.

You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches. 

It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.

“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.

“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.

Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.

“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”

Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true. 

You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.

“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”

You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.

It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.

You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.

Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.

All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.

They’re haunting your own eyes, too.

“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.

Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.

Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.

“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”

Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”

“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…

You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes. 

You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.

You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.

He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”

You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest. 

Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”

You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”

She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”

“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”

She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”

You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.

You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment. 

You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.

There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…

Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.

Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward. 

He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.

Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed. 

It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.

Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook

Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.

You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.

You take a deep breath in, and though it���s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.

You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.

Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant. 

The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.

Prev | Chapter 12.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[chronicallycouchbound]

Intelligence Doesn't Equal Morality

Intellect is rooted in ableist systems and stupidity and intelligence are pointless social constructs that don't relate to morals or character.

I try to be a pretty good person, I fight for human rights, I regularly engage in mutual aid, and I care for my community. I try to do the right thing and support causes I care about and make positive changes in the world.

But I also am not very smart. I have several neurodevelopmental disorders, as well as cognitive disabilities. I can’t do simple, basic math, it’s hard for me to remember facts or algorithms, I rely entirely on spellcheck and speech-to-text to write, I failed many classes in high school and I barely passed with a low GPA, I had low pSAT scores and I never took the SATs. I moved around a lot all through school starting in third grade, and I missed a lot of basic fundamentals in learning (like how to do division and multiplication) so when I went to a different school they had already passed it and expected me to know. After my TBI, I could barely read AFTER I was cleared from my “concussion” symptoms because letters and words would flip around and I’d get headaches. Which still happens sometimes.

A lot of people see me as smart because I've learned a lot of academic language and can formulate thoughts into cohesive posts. But I lack a lot of necessary skills and rely on my caretakers to assist me. Things like budgeting and planning are extremely difficult for me. If I need to do simple addition or subtraction, even with a calculator, I quickly get confused and struggle. I forget basic information about myself all the time, let alone other subjects. I'm talking, has to check my ID for my birthday type confused. Doesn't know my name or address or what year it is confused. It happens daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Being able to type out posts like this often takes weeks and many adaptive tools to get there. Focusing is extremely difficult on many fronts, severe chronic pain, ADHD, dissociation, fatigue, migraines, and TBI, are just some of the contributing factors. I struggle daily with many things because of my lack of intellect.

I’m also privileged in the fact that I had some access to education as a homeless youth, that I had some supports in place to help me (towards the end of school), that I was somewhat able-bodied at the time and could walk or bike to and from school when the school system didn’t provide transportation. I was fortunate to have a chance to succeed, and I’m proud that I graduated high school because it was a difficult task for me, and others often aren’t offered that chance or get accommodations. I almost didn’t and I dropped out many times before graduation. I passed on sheer luck and what little privileges I had. 

That all being said, me being stupid (reclaiming it here) doesn't make me a bad person. I don't hurt people because I can't do math. I may mess up things or get confused but it doesn't make me want to harm others.

We often (wrongfully) equate morals with intellect. Being ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’, or an ‘idiot’ doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Plenty of evil, awful, and abusive people are extremely intelligent. 

I see this most notably with people advocating for IQ tests to be able to vote. Often from left-leaning people, in hopes it'll make the right (that they view as unintelligent), unable to vote. The reality is, it just hurts some of our most vulnerable members of the community while not actively doing anything to restrict some of the most dangerous members of our community-- those who know what they're doing to harm others and deliberately doing so. My voice matters, and I speak up against injustice and participate in dismantling oppressive systems. Taking away my right to vote won't make the right stop oppressing minorities (which also puts a lot of faith into the two-party voting system, which is a post for another day).

Additionally, legislative measures that discriminate against intellectually disabled people such as IQ tests for voting are also rooted in racism and classism. 

Yes, education can be a vital tool when it comes to addressing discrimination and creating safer communities. But the kind of education that is measured with an IQ test (or any test) isn't the same. Building compassion and caring for others can (and should) happen at any IQ level. We can all practice this, we can all participate.

It harms our communities and stagnates our progress when we equate intelligence with high morals.

[hhoneylemon]

𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘵. 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢

jess mariano x reader

genre; fluff

word count; 896

summary; jess annotates a book for reader and then proceeds to rethink every decision he’s ever made.

reader pov

I had stopped by at Luke’s Diner to grab a coffee and have a small chat with Jess in the morning. He described a book he had recently read, saying it had been turned into a movie that disrespected the name.

“It’s so bad. Like, they changed multiple events and even one of the characters names. Don’t forget how everyone interacts with each other… it basically just shares the same name as the book is all.”

It was interesting seeing how frustrated he got about it, and I smiled at him.

“What book is this?”

His eyes widen a tad as he realizes he didn’t even say.

“I Know What You Did Last Summer. Lois Duncan.”

I nod, interested. I’d heard of the movie before, I think, in passing from my best friend. She and her mother watch a lot of things together, this might’ve been one she talked about.

“Did you like the book?”

I take a sip from my coffee, allowing the warmth of the drink to wake me up a bit more.

“Yeah, it was good. I annotated it as I read, if you want to borrow it.”

I smile at the offer, nodding along.

“I’d like that.”

And so here I sit, comfortably on my bed as I read the book. Jess’s annotations were always interesting. He didn’t only look at suspicious details in the story, he also had a soft spot for some of the romantic moments. It made me smile whenever I saw one, that goof.

The book was good, as he had said it was. I knew that Jess had written his full thoughts in the very back, so once I finished, I took everything in to form my opinions. I then open to the back to compare.

I didn’t expect a small folded paper to fall out. A little ‘huh’ escapes from my lips as I unfold it, reading it. I almost laugh at the simplicity of it. A note saying ‘Will you go on a date with me?’ with two boxes, one for yes and one for no. I snort in amusement, before placing it beside me to read his thoughts.

They were agreeable. It was well written and the. characters were developed. Barry was an asshole and Ray came off kinda creepy during some parts of the book.

Once I finish reading his thoughts, I turn my attention back to the note. I pick it up and walk to my desk, grabbing a pen. I checkmark the yes box and slide the note back into the book, knowing I’ll drop it off before dinner.

jess pov

What was I thinking.

Metallica pulses through the air as I stare at the ceiling. I’m lying on the floor as I collect my thoughts. I just asked out Y/n, and in probably the most stupid way possible.

What else can I do, I guess? And it’s too late anyways, they’re bound to have seen it by now.

Perhaps it isn’t the end of the world. If they say no, I’ll lose a close friend, but I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll be regretting who I am for a while, but I’ll survive.

The notes of Nothing Else Matters ring in my ears like a bell. I hum along faintly, occupying myself from my thoughts.

I pick myself up when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

“Yes?”

Luke pops his head in, looking at me with tired eyes.

“C’mon. Dinner rush about to come in.”

And so I turn off my CD player and trudge down to the diner, ready to serve the rush. I head to the counter like my uncle asks me to and take peoples orders, scribbling in the notepad and dismissing them to a table. I hand the notepad to Luke to take to whoever’s cooking and repeat the process who knows how many times, when my attention is grabbed by a familiar face entering the diner.

Y/n approaches the counter with a friendly smile, brandishing my copy of I Know What You Did Last Summer. They place it on the counter, and I take it into my hands.

“Thoughts?”

I watch them lean against the counter and think for a moment.

“Well, I thought it was good. Barry was terrible to Helen, Ray was kinda freaky, Julie’s mom was a real one, some of the scenes were cool. The gunshot during the fireworks show was clever, I liked that. A crazed brother is a little silly, I wonder what happened to poor Megan. I feel bad for the parents of the little boy. I liked Helen but thought she was a little dim for not realizing what Barry was up to. His mom was annoying. I also like how you annotate books, by the way. Seeing your thought process is really interesting while I’m having my own, y’know?”

Y/n finishes, looking at me. Their look is knowing, so I know they read the note. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wonder what they’ll say, if anything. The silence that follows what they say is awkward.

And then, “I’ll go out with you.”

They hand me the note, and I see that they checked off the yes box. I look up and see them smiling at me. I give a small smile back.

Maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all.

[dashofmonsters]

Dreamers & Delusions- Pt. 2

Merman x Female Reader

"I'll have to go into hibernation if it gets too cold or if I can't find something to do. The acclimation program already knows about my kind and our issues with the cold so they have accommodations for winter," he explains.

"Well I hope it doesn't get too cold then, would be a bummer if I couldn't come see you," you smile at him.

Tao's eyes go wide for a second before he clears his throat, "Yes well it would indeed be a bummer... Especially since we have just decided to be friends."

"Right?" you beam.

You and Tao talk and talk almost to the point where it's just about silly things or what he's struggling with during his acclimation. You find out he's a very literal person who has issues the most with slang, metaphors, and emotes. He lives in a rental that's about a couple miles away from the beach and he usually walks to work or the local grocery store since he can't fit into normal vehicles.

After a little bit of work though you find out an even more endearing side to him, he likes to try his hand at cooking ever so often. Though he prefers his meat raw, he likes the idea of charring the outside and adding bits of flavor. He was a little embarrassed to admit it but you found out it's because his father was supposed to show him how to create a feast to impress a mate per tradition.

You didn't press as to why his father didn't teach him seeing he was already uncomfortable enough to admit it. So you decided to share a bit of something uncomfortable about yourself.

"My mom never taught me how to do a lot of basics that most parents are supposed to teach their kids. I had to watch a lot of how to videos and make myself look like an idiot if I messed up or didn't know something. A lot of people assumed I was stupid or had no common sense. I just didn't have a point of reference and I hated being ignorant but I was judged for my short comings and no one ever helped," you admit.

Tao nods and gives you his first, though very small, smile.

"Is that why you are forgetting things constantly?" he asks with the slightest smirk.

"Yeah...sure," you feel a bit embarrassed by his question, but you'll never confess that you 'forgot' those things just as an excuse to talk to him.

"I see, I will take that into account that due to your upbringing that you just don't think about these things and I will stop being annoyed by it," he nods.

"You were annoyed," now you feel a little hurt.

"Of course I was, but no more than I usually am," he shrugs.

"That doesn't sound fun," you grimace. "You can't just be annoyed all the time."

"I'm not annoyed when I'm at home," he says.

"Lucky," you laugh.

"Why? Are you unable to be at peace at home too?" he gives you a look of genuine concern then.

His number one thing seems to be peace. He's a no nonsense guy who just wants to go about his day with no hiccups. His life honestly seems perfect compared to your at times.

"Only when I'm sleeping or about to leave for work. Peace... that doesn't come easy to someone like me," you frown.

Tao studies you then as he drops to your eye level. You should feel super uncomfortable but for some reason you don't mind. He stares hard at your face and scans it until he nods.

"You do look very tired," he says.

You can't help but to laugh at his observation, "Tao, I'm going to let you in on a secret: I'm always tired."

"That is unhealthy," he scowls.

"Yup and there's nothing I can do about it," you shrug.

"Yes there is, you could go home and sleep," he says, almost ordering you to do so.

That's when you can't help but to crack up. It's horrible that this is how you cope, but it is.

"If I went home to sleep right now, my grandmother would give me an earful about being lazy," you laugh.

Tao doesn't laugh, he doesn't smile, doesn't do anything except stand up slowly and prowl over to you.

You shut up real quick thinking something is wrong until he picks you up. You yelp, being carried in one arm at his hip like a sack of rice.

"What are you doing?!" you squawk as you sway when he shifts to carry you princess style.

He doesn't say anything until he sets you down onto your tie dye towel.

"Rest, I'll make sure no one bothers you while you're here," he says.

You can't help but feel a mix of emotions then. Your eyes water a little but you swipe away any moisture before a tear falls.

"Thank you, that's probably the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long while," you smile at him.

And Tao in all his Taoness, just nods.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tao really meant it when he said no one would bother you while you were on the beach.

The day after he said that, you had what was possibly the best beach nap you've ever had thanks to Tao brining you a beach chair with your name on it. Literally.

At first it felt weird that he'd go that far just for you to get a beach nap but you guessed it might be some cultural thing and as far as Tao said, you're his only friend. You thanked him and didn't think much of it until the day after that.

A group of teenagers were playing volleyball a little too roughly and one of the guys fumbled and the ball got you right on the head even though you did your best to dodge it. The boys tried to apologize but Tao gave them an earful about respect and being more spatially aware.

That too was normal for Tao though he was a bit harsher than usual. Unfortunately it got worse.

Yesterday was a blessed off day. No work, your grandmother was out thrifting to her heart's content, and all your bills had been paid. You were excited to head to the beach but that excitement was short lived.

The first thing you noticed was that your chair was pulled a little closer to the guard tower. Next was that Tao wasn't in the tower but leaning against the ladder like he was expecting some shit to hit the fan any second. And finally, the group of muscle hunks posing as they flexed for the cameras.

Apparently some magazine decided this spot was the perfect location for some weird gym rat protein powder ad photo shoot and to make matters worse, they tried to rope Tao into it.

Before you sat down though, Tao made a bit of a scene by scooting your chair even closer to the tower while making eye contact with one of the big buff dudes.

You told him he was being a bit extra to which he said he was only being cautious as they had been eyeing you since you started walking down the beach. You rolled your eyes, ready to tell him that there's no way they'd be interested in you until he thrusted a binder in your direction.

It was a detailed list of ingredients, dishes, and recipes commonly enjoyed by all saltwater merfolk with a few dishes his kind liked the most. You had almost forgot that he said he'd make this list for you so when he gave it to you, you almost cried.

You thanked him and started fanning through the pages and noticed his hand writing was especially nice on dishes that his people particularly enjoyed. You gave him a quick side eye and smiled.

These are probably his personal favorites, you think.

As you started to skim through the recipes with the neatest hand writing a shadow fell over you.

It was one of the buff guys.

He gave you the most generic social media fake ass grins ever and you couldn't help the eye roll. He started to introduce himself but was hardcore interrupted when Tao drove him into the ground like a fucking bull.

Tao and the buff guy started hashing it out until his bros came and peeled him away from the fight. It was the first time you really really saw Tao's teeth. Sharp and pointy like a shark's and then there was the spike like fins on his lower arms and legs. He looked like a mad dog ready to rip someone in half.

You heard one of the photographers comment on how territorial some of the fair folk can be with places or people they claim as their own.

If that was the case, then you guessed it might have to do with your friendship with Tao. If it wasn't, then he's about the get a stern talking to.

~~~~~~

"He was bothering you, I don't see why you're upset with me," Tao says after you lectured him about yesterday.

"I'm upset you dingbat because shit like that can get you sent back to your home realm! Do you think I want my friend to get deported over shit like that," you poke his arm, but it ends up being a jab.

Tao opens his mouth then closes it. He looks around a bit then let's out a long sigh "I'm sorry. I really don't know what's come over me. After I moved here, I didn't have my shoal. My sponsor checks on me maybe once every three months since he's been busy working with another merman who's been trying to get his pass here. I guess the loneliness drove me a bit crazy."

Now you feel bad for making him feel bad but you hope your gift will more than make up for it. You worked all morning long on it, double checking to make sure the meat was ready and perfect right before you left the house and that the sea greens were cooked and seasoned just right.

"Well moving past that, I brought you something," you take out the lunch box and show it to Tao.

He looks down right shocked as he goes to reach for it. He carefully removes the lid and his eyes stare hard at the contents.

"You made this... for me," his voice is soft and quiet and you can hear the pain behind it. He hesitates for a moment then takes a slice of the thin cut beef and pops it in his mouth. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back and swallows. He's quiet for a minute and you're afraid you messed up and he's too nice to tell you other wise.

"Tao if it's bad you can just tell me, I can take the criticism," you tell him, ready for the critical blow.

Instead he tilts his head back down and opens his eyes. The whites are now all black which makes his yellow irises pop even more so.

"My friend, if this was bad I would have spat it out," he grabs two more slices and then a few more practically stuffing his face like a kid who was caught with a bag of candy.

You watch as he eats everything, savoring every bite like he hasn't had a decent meal in ages. His harsh features soften as he takes the last bite and licks his fingers clean. For some reason you focus on him as he rolls the sauce off of his fingers and onto his tongue.

Bad lonely thoughts, Tao is our friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

"So was it good?" you ask, though you can probably guess the answer by the clean plate.

"If I was mermaid being offered a feast, I'd allow you the honor to continue courting me," he jokes.

"Oh what an honor," you laugh.

For the first time since you've met him he laughs back. You can't help but stare at him and feel a smile build up that hurts your cheeks.

"Thank you, really. I have tried and tried to create something that tastes like home but it was never quite right. It was either too salty or I over cooked the meat or the greens were under cooked somehow. This is pretty close to the flavors of my shoal. I didn't realize how much I missed this," he looks down at the empty lunch box with a mix of emotions.

Something in you feels for him. You haven't had a taste of home in forever but your problem is that you're pretty sure that it would make you physically sick instead of homesick. Home never felt like home, here didn't feel like home until you met Jessica and Tao.

Jessica made you her to die for pie for you birthday which you almost threw up from over drinking when she took you bar hopping for your birthday. Tao gave you an amazingly detailed binder of saltwater mer foods and recipes.

You can't think of anything better than food that brings all sorts of peoples together, human or the fair folk.

"Well, I can't do it all the time but I can at least make you a boxed lunch once a week, how does that sound," you smile at him.

"If it weren't for the fact that you're human and my friend I'd think you were trying to court me," he laughs. "But yes, that sounds good."

You play slap him and he laughs again.

~~~~~~~~~

"For the last time Jes, there's nothing romantic going on between Tao and I," you roll your eyes as Jessica gives you her biggest grin.

"Uh huh, sure girl. Maybe you don't see it that way, but guys don't risk getting deported for just friends and not just once. This is what, the second offence? He's lucky that he's, oh what did you say? A combination of a bookish mafia boss, the inspiration for the statues of deities and all around hotty mchot hot hot," she wriggles her brows at you before popping another slice of gum in her mouth.

You snort laugh, "I did not say that last one Jes."

"No, but you were thinking it," she raises a brow and twirls around till she's behind the counter.

"Listen, I can find him physically attractive and still not want more than a friendship. Plus he hasn't come onto me so I'm pretty sure he's not into me like that," you sigh and continue cleaning the table you just cleared.

Jessica hums something and clicks her tongue, "Girl you do know he's not human right? That he might have been coming onto you from the get go without you realizing it? Shoot for that matter he might not even realize it himself."

That has you curious now.

"What do you mean by that," you look over you shoulder to see Jes twirling a red curl.

"Oh you know, that the fair folk believe in fated mates and things like that," she gives you a cheesy grin and blushes a little.

You do know about the fated mates thing, it's one of the reasons a lot of fair folk, especially the guys, flocked to this realm in droves once the rift border opened up. With the fae it was pretty easy to tell once the bond clicked which wasn't always immediately. Their calm and calculated appearance would become wild and untamed. They would get quickly territorial and easily violent towards anyone who came close to their mate. A mark would usually show above the heart and a matching one would appear on their mate once their bond was consummated.

As for merman, no one had any idea what to look for since they just started coming this side as of a few years ago.

"Yes, I'm well aware about that. So what does that have to do with him not know if he's coming onto me," you ask.

"They know it deep down and act on it sometimes. They don't even realize they're courting you half the time or that they have this desire to want to be with you. It's hardcore ingrained into their DNA or something, I don't know. But it sounds to me that he is indeed into you. You're both just too oblivious to see it. Unlike Artek," Jes grins at the mention of her wild fae lover's name and sighs.

And suddenly her weird school girl crush behavior makes sense.

"Jes, did you and Artek.... Wait a sec, are you and-"

Jessica folds down her top just enough for you to see part of a swirling mark above her heart. She shakes in place with the goofiest smile you've ever seen on her.

"Just found out last night. Oh and he did not want to let me go," she places a hand on her forehead and feigns being scandalized. "But I have to go to work. He threatened to come in and tear Mikey a new one if he so much as thinks he can schedule me during my bond week," she give a vicious grin then.

The fae took about a week to celebrate their mate bond here, which was a much shorter version of their actual month long festivity of it. Mates were so rare on their side for some reason but here it was becoming as normal as two humans getting married. It just happened, but it was equally special if not more so.

Regardless, you were happy for Jes. Mikey tried to take everything from her in their divorce but got next to nothing after a detective brought in proof of his multiple affairs. That's why he's such an ass to her here.

"So, when's your bride feast huh? Gonna go all out," you turn to her and cross your arms.

Jessica goes into great detail about what she wants to do for the rest of the shift. That Artek has invited his large ass family this side to celebrate and that he's already started sourcing materials for their marriage bed. It was more than obvious that she's over the moon and can't get over the fact that she's found the one after years of dealing with a heartache.

Mikey tried to shut her down but several of the fair folk patrons snapped at him saying that it's a blessing that her and Artek found one another and he shouldn't discourage her happiness. His flustered face was priceless.

~~~~~

"Hey grandmama, I'm home," you shout as you slide your shoes off at the door.

Your grandmother's house is unusually quiet for this time of day when she's usually scrolling through her phone while listening to her soap operas. You look around and the livingroom is empty and so is the kitchen. You're about to call her when you see a note on the fridge saying Gayle has whisked her away for margaritas with the girls.

"Fuck me sideways and call me bob," you rake your fingers over your face in frustration. As much as you can't stand her normal antics you loath her when she's drunk. If you're lucky, Gayle will have her spend the night at her house until their hangovers wear off. If you weren't, there's a nice beach with your name on it.

Typically you'd go there after work but you're tired and you have the house to yourself right now. So you stretch and crack open the fridge and start preparing for a blissful night of snacking and binge watching some of your favorite shows.

~~~~

Hours pass and you get a text from Gayle that she's taking your grandmother home with her since she's had one too many and sends you a pic of your grandmother trying to put a dollar bill in a male strippers strap.

"Thanks for the mental scarring Gayle, just what I needed," you text back to her knowing she'll get the joke.

Gayle was a close family friend and was more like a grandmother to you than your biological one was at times. She was sweet and caring with a crazy sense of humor and infectious laughter. You sometimes wish you lived with her but she travels too much and she likes her alone time just as much as she like partying.

You squirm in your grandmother's recliner and grab a bag of chips getting ready for the next show until you hear a frantic knock at your door.

The bag flies out of your hand due to your shock reflex and you place a hand over your heart.

The knocking continues as you rush to the door to check through the peephole. You can't see nothing.

"Who is it?" you ask.

"It's me, are you ok," you hear Tao's voice.

You pause, not remembering if you ever told him where you live aside from the general direction. You slowly open the door and look up at him. He looks worried out of his mind.

"Tao, are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost buddy," you ask him.

His hair is all messed up and he's breathing fast and hard, trying to catch his breath and his tan skin looks like he worried himself sick.

"You didn't come to the beach today. You've been coming everyday except when it rains. I thought something happened," he frowns.

"Oh uh well, no I'm fine. My grandmother is out tonight so I thought I'd enjoy a night in since this rarely happens," you explain.

"I see, ok... That's good then. As long as you're alright," he nods and sighs as he leans against the top of the door frame.

A crack of thunder peels off in the distance causing Tao to flinch. He looks even more worried then.

"Sounds like rain," you comment.

"Yes, I... I should get going then, I don't want to accidentally transform back to my other form while walking home. It'd be very inconv-"

Before he finishes that thought lightning bursts through the sky and the little misting sprinkle turns into a torrential downpour.

Tao groans and looks resigned as he's about to turn to leave but you quickly stop him.

"Hey you can stay here for tonight if you want to wait out the rain," you tell him.

He looks to you like that's possibly the dumbest thing you could say.

"That sounds inappropriate," he glares at you. "Inviting an unmated male into your house is never wise."

"Tao we're friends and adults. I'm pretty sure I can trust you to keep your hands to yourself unless you've had ulterior motives from the get go," you cross your arms and stare up at him.

"It is still unwise," he nods, being firm.

"Oh so then you do have ulterior motives," you raise a brow.

"I never said that," he grimaces.

"Then there's no problem if you don't. Come on, get your ass in here," you open the door all the way and beckon him inside.

You hear him groan as he accepts his defeat while walking in. He struggles with the low ceiling, well low for him as he shuts the door.

"Is this your first time in a human house," you ask, leading him to the livingroom.

"Yes, it's very uh small and compact," he notes.

You get the compact part as your grandmother is a bit of a tidy hoarder, the small thing, that's probably due to his height.

"Well mi casa su casa. Well more like mi abuela's casa su casa, but still, make yourself at home," you say then try to offer him something warm to eat and drink.

Tao tries to deny any offers but you snap back saying it's rude to deny your hostess the honor of taking care of her guest. Tao eventually resigns and you bring him a warm cup of tea. As you go to the kitchen to make him something to eat he asks if he can watch you. You agree and start pulling ingredients left and right.

You get fully into the zone as you start preparing the food. You glance over at Tao ever so often just to see that he's fixated on your process. As you start cooking you notice the whites of his eyes turn black again. He sniffs the air and his pupils dilate.

"Want to try a bite," you offer him a piece and he takes it with no hesitation and scarfs it down. His nails which are sharp and pointed seem a bit longer and more pointier now. His expression looks more predatory than normal and some of his spikey fins have started protruding.

Guess that means he's really hungry.

"Give me just a few more minutes and dinner will be ready ok," you tell him as you continue on with his meal.

Tao just nods and stares daggers at pan. You feel like if you let him he'd lunge at it with reckless abandon and eat everything in record timing.

After a little bit you scoop the meat into a bowl and hand it to him. He looks at it and takes in a deep whiff before carefully grabbing a bite. He looks like he's holding back going ham on the food and you're wondering if he's trying not to scare you by going into some weird merman feeding frenzy.

"Hey if you need to eat however you want to eat, go ahead. I can just uh go into another room if you want some privacy or someth-"

Tao grabs a handful of the meat and stuffs his face with it. His pupils nearly engulf his irises making his eyes look pitch black. He tears into the strips of meat like a crazed hungry animal. The juices and sauce start dripping down his arms and you roll your eyes at the mess.

"I'm going to get you a towel, that stuff'll get sticky after a while," you say as you walk towards to laundry room.

Tao grunts and consumes some more meat.

As you get to the laundry room you smack yourself over the head for having another bout of terrible lonely girl thoughts.

Tao, smack.

Is, smack.

Just, smack.

A, smack.

Friend, smack.

You should not be even more attracted to him after that feeding frenzy trance thing he just went in and yet you can't stop thinking about it.

"God, does that mean I'm depraved," you question yourself. "Or does this just mean I'm weird and anything goes right now in my lonely haven't had sex in ages mind?"

Probably a bad mix of both...

You sigh and grab a towel and turn only to be met with a brick wall.

"Oh hey, are you done," you ask, praying that he didn't hear you questioning your sexual sanity.

He nods and cocks his head and points to the towel.

"Yeah, um here," you hand it to him and he slowly but carefully cleans himself off.

"So there's a guest bedroom in the back. Bed is probably a bit small for you even though it's a king size. It gets cold at night since my grandmother has the a/c on a schedule so I'll bring you some extra blankets," you tell him as you turn to go show him the room.

He quietly follows you and steps slowly into the room, smelling and inspecting it. You leave him be while you go grab a large comforter and a few throw blanket for him. When you come back he's already curled under the covers with his feet barely sticking out. As you go to lay another layer over him he snatches you and pulls you into the covers with him.

You flail about for a bit until you hear what you're pretty sure in a purr. You kick up the covers to see Tao asleep now and honest to gods purring. He pulls you in closer and just cuddles you. He's mentioned a few times that when someone gets cold that his shoal will form basically cuddle piles to stay warm. Maybe that's it and maybe he's also really homesick. He said he can never go back though...

"Just this once, jeeze. Not letting you go into a feeding frenzy next time I give you food," you snort laugh and try to relax against Mr. Brick wall.

Tao shifts a bit till he's holding you close enough that you can hear his heartbeat. He moves the covers and extra blankets back up and slowly drifts back to sleep.

You're a little jealous of how fast he can nod off but eventually you start dozing in and out.

He's probably going to flip the fuck out about this in the morning. Well, we'll deal with it then...

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part Sixteen!

Hello my gorgeous little demons - I am so sorry this took so long to post! These past few weeks have been hell at work! But never fear, I will always get to writing when I can!

Now ... we've had Voxie's turn, it's Valentino's now ;)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen Trigger Warnings: Sexual themes, no under 18's allowed, sexual shenanigans, second time writing smut (be kind), Val being his usual sarcastic self!

A few days had passed since your little tryst with Vox, and you were slightly embarrassed that the next day after you basically had to spend it all in bed to recover after your late evening with the Overlord. Even more embarrassed when Velvette came to check up on you and ended up laughing her head off when she realised what was going on. Valentino was a little nicer – and by a little you meant he didn’t laugh … straight away.

Anyway, after that one day of recovering you were then back to work, focusing on your social media and the upcoming catwalk for Velvette. Your songs were chosen, outfits being made and all that was left was practicing where and when you were going to sing, prance and walk. And by practice you meant again, and again and again until you had to tell Velvette if she kept making you sing over and over your voice would be in tatters for the show. Did you think she was going to give you a break after that? Your voice, yes. Your body, nope. You were made to walk up and down that catwalk, pose in various (idiotic) poses and dance your way back down the catwalk. Safe to say you were absolutely shattered.

Which is why you were currently lying down on the pink chaise lounge in Velvette’s studio; going over paperwork, the last few outfit designs for the other demons and whether any song choices would work better than the ones you had. Velvette was sat beside you, one hand tapping away on her phone and the other one running her fingers through your hair, tugging on the few tangles that were there making sure you were paying attention and not falling asleep which you were apt to do. What could you say, you loved people playing with your hair.

A grumble and a huff from her stopped you from adjusting the one outfit design and instead to look up at her to see a pissed off look on her face. What has happened now?

“You okay there, babe?” Checking on her, you sit up properly as she shakes her phone annoyed.

“That stupid piss baby is blowing up all our phones having a tantrum, like we have time to deal with his dramatics. Vox is busy which means I am going to have to deal with him and I have a hundred different things to do and I just- “ Turning her phone while she ranted so you can see the masses of messages from Valentino you hold back a sigh. He’d been so good recently it was easy to forget that he was the most dramatic out of the three of them (which if you considered how dramatic they all are is an achievement in itself!)

“Sweets don’t worry, I’ll go and chat with him you keep working on what you need to do” you stand from your seat stretching your back which was aching from being laid funny for so long. Vel argued for a few moments before relenting and passing you your phone from the table, popping a quick kiss on her cheek as you walk round her you wiggle your fingers in a goodbye gesture. Entering the elevator you pressed the button for Valentino’s floor. A quick scroll on your phone you see the various messages from Valentino progressively getting more pissed off when no one was replying. Oops. Piss baby indeed.

A sharp ping distracted you from the messages, shoving your phone into your pocket you enter Valentino’s studio. Up till now you had only made a few trips to his studio, preferring the calmness of Vox’s office, or focusing on the clothes in Velvette’s – Val’s had a completely different vibe which sometimes put you on edge. A few steps into the room you could feel the energy was chaotic already. A Valentino shouting at the two pornstars on the stage was the reason why. Sighing under your breath you could easily see he wasn’t exactly as calm as you would have hoped. Well. Here goes nothing.

Walking towards the Overlord, you nod to a few of the demons who recognised you from around the tower and glared at the ones who give you a bit of attitude who obviously don’t realise who you were. They soon would. Coming to a stop at a ranting Val’s side you watch him snap a few directions at the actors with comments on how they could (should) improve. Before he could yell action, you link an arm through his while whispering up into his ear: “is that how you are going to direct me in bed?” His head twists round so fast his glasses nearly fly off, catching them you grin up at the shocked Overlord. Shocked is definitely better than shouting.

“My amorcito (little love), what are you doing here?” Slipping his glasses properly back on his face, you can’t help but chuckle at his question.

“You ask as if you weren’t blowing up all of our phones continuously for the past hour – I’ve come to check up on you”, as you explain one of his arms wraps around your waist to drag you around the side of his chair, so now you were in front of him.

“You came to check on little ol’ me? I am touched!” His other hand was cupping your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks a little harder than normal reminding you of his festering anger. Your own hand came up to rest on his wrist as you nod, his hand controlling how much movement you had which sent a small tingle up your spine. Okay you had definitely been spending way too much time with the Vee’s because when did you get that sort of kink?

He must have seen something in your expression as his own darkened with a sinister grin, his gold tooth flashing at you. Bringing another hand to your waist he hoisted you onto his lap like you weighed nothing, squeaking at the sudden movement you placed your hands on his arms to steady yourself. He had made sure to place you with your back against his chest and two of his arms stayed wrapped around your waist pressing you closer to him.

“If you want to keep me calm little one, I suggest you stay there and stay quiet, yes?” Agreeing you rested against his chest as he shouted at the actors to start again. Sitting there you kept quiet, but with how Valentino was sat you had the full show of what the actors were doing on the stage. Adverting your gaze, a flush started to raise up your neck to your cheeks more so when you couldn’t help but take a cheeky glance. How on hell do they stay in those positions without breaking a sweat? After a few minutes of that position, Val shouted for them to change. His hands rubbing up and down your waist as well as the scene in front of you was making the jeans you were wearing mighty uncomfortable.

Doing your best to ignore the urge the relieve the pressure, you hesitated before shifting on Valentino’s lap to try and stop the seam of your jeans pressing against your clit. Moving a bit too quick, a gasp escaped your lips as small burst of pleasure flashed through your body. A chuckle against your ear made the blush grow even more. Busted.

“Comfortable Princessa?” His hushed words into your ear made a shiver run down your spine. Another chuckle from him caused you to roll your eyes. Of course he was loving this. Ready to shove his arms away from your waist and storm out, a pair of red wings encasing your body stopped you in your tracks. You hadn’t seen his wings before.

“Now sit still and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut while daddy finishes his work”, you are ready to give him some sarcastic and harsh words, but a quick hand sneaked down the front of your jeans and underwear. Slipping a finger in between your wet lips gathering the wetness up and pressing harshly against your clit made any words you wanted to say to stay stuck in your throat. Gulping back the moan that wanted to escape, you clench your thighs together to try stop him from moving his fingers.

Tutting quietly into your ear, two hands easily push your thighs apart and hold them open while the hand that was down your jeans was alternating between circling your clit and dipping into your tight hole. “Now mi carño, that bratty attitude might work with Voxie, but not with me you understand?” Your concentration was gone with the fingers that were pushing you closer and closer to the edge making you whine under your breath when they came to a stop. Blinking up at him, his free hand wrapped around your neck harshly before giving you a small shake. “Are you that starved for attention little one that you have become dumb as soon as I touch you? I asked you a question!” He snarls down at you, swallowing a groan you try to rack your brains at what he asked you before. It was so hard to think while his fingers were working you so well and that hand around your neck was just helping push you closer to that edge. Bratty. Bratty attitude that was what he asked you.

“I understand Papi” you whisper, hiding your smirk at the dark expression he gave you. A finger driving deeper into you was your retribution for the snarky comment. Worth it. He yanked your body closer to his chest by the hand on your throat, keeping you plastered against him as his other hands kept your legs open and driving you higher and higher.

“Does it turn you on that we are doing this where anyone could see us Y/n? All it takes is for me to move my wings and anyone can see you unravel on my fingers” licking up your neck making a small moan escapes your lips.

“It does, but do you really want others to see me in that position? To see me fall apart at your hands when my reactions should only be reserved for you three Vee’s?” You turn your head to stare into his lensed glare. You knew you were playing with fire. Valentino was the most jealous and possessive of the three, but he was also the most unpredictable. A thrill ran through your body as he growled into your shoulder, biting down on it hard making you groan. Shit that hurt! Removing his teeth, you see his possessive bite mark on your shoulder. The sound he let out was almost a purr as he ran his tongue over the mark, his fingers moving quicker on your clit causing you to slam your head back into his chest and hold back the moans so only a few whimpers fell from your lips.

He laughed at you, shouting a few more orders and commands at the actors being completely at ease while you were falling apart at the seams. So close to the edge you dug your fingers into his arms, whimpers and moans escaping you more often now but you had stopped caring if the other demons could hear. You were so focused on the feeling coursing through your veins you couldn’t give a fuck if the rest of the room heard you scream.

Val did some sort of voodoo move with his fingers that had you cuming without even realising that you had not just hit the edge but had flown off it. The hand that was around your throat was now across your mouth muffling all the moans and shouts as Valentino shouted cut and for everyone to fuck off out of the room.

Twitching and twisting away from his fingers that continued moving, you shook your head at Val. It was too much. Too much. You tried to get your hands down your jeans to stop him, but they were caught by his own.

“My little chulito, you didn’t think I was finished with you yet, did you?”

Fuck!

Taglist:

@tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda

@the-maladaptivedaydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzler

@ace-spades-1 @iamferalfordilfs

@justgiulia @kittycatkrissa @qu1cks1lversb1tch @martinys-world @superwholatacohunters @mysticvoide

@rosiethevoxobesser

@skullhorn59 @sarcastic-sourwolf

@samanthastarss @hazbinz-vixxie

@shinynewboots

[iid-smile]

⭑ — THE SNOW WHITE PRINCESS IS

お願い KISS で目を醒まして欲しいの

白い棺から連れ出すよう

content — sakura haruka x fem!reader, the reader is referred to as "princess" and wears a dress, brief mention of suo and the class, the reader has parents, he calls you pretty,

wc — 0.9k (how??)

dec 3rd ⭑ event masterlist — for the lovely @hanaeriin !

a/n: pretend i didnt forget to post this yesterday + im gonna edit it because idk what the hell happened while i was writing

princesses, fairytales, fantasy... haruka never got the appeal over why people are so obsessed with romance and happy-ending stories. it's not real, it's made up, and it's stupid.

once or twice, he's taken a peek at your phone whenever you don't respond to him calling your name. maybe you were studying, maybe there's something super important that you just can't tear your eyes off it, but no. it's heaps and heaps of short clips, all having a common theme, ballroom dancing and huge dresses.

now that he thinks about it, he used to hear you gush about disney princes, or how magical and perfect the princesses' lives seem to be, minus any dilemma that takes up the majority of the movie.

well, that's an idea! you can be a princess for a day as a gift, and he'll be your prince. oh, that's cheesy...

with a little consulting from a certain love adviser with an eyepatch, he was forced convinced into committing to his idea, his brief idea spiralling into something much more complicated than it needed to be. either way, he feels almost obligated to, especially since this is your first december together.

here's the catch; haruka has no idea how to dance. he can do the hokey pokey (barely), but he cannot do whatever the hell you see in those videos. he's never had great limb coordination unless it's been for fighting, so basically he's at the level of a baby learning how to walk for the first time.

twenty-five days. he had twenty five days to learn how to dance.

in the meantime, his little helping elves (he did not choose this alias, they did) were fixing up a dress for you, gathering up money from each member of the class to make their grade captain's girlfriend happy.

soon, the day finally came; christmas morning. he's been stressed all the way up until the moment he reached you front door, eyes trained to the ground with thoughts of doubt running all over him. what if he messes the whole thing up and ruins your day? his hand absentmindedly reaches up to knock on the door, dreading the moment he hears footsteps approaching and praying to anybody out there that you're still asleep.

with the permission of your parents and a flustered explanation later, he makes his way to your room, trying his best to keep the long trail of skirt material from touching the ground.

quietly, he enters, and the door shuts, making little to no sound. your room certainly hasn't changed much since he's last been here. as usual, he cringes at your embarrassing collage of photos together, as well as a few additional trinkets he spots dotted around the area.

he lays the dress carefully over a nearby chair and approaches your side. how was he supposed to do this? nudge you awake? call your name? how would a prince wake up a princess? thank god nobody's here to witness this...

here goes nothing.

your brain shakes itself awake from a soft yet firm sensation on your lips. it's familiar, comforting, and something you've grown well addicted to. your head tilts as you deepen the kiss ever so slightly, before leaning back to take a look at the culprit.

there he was, your prince charming now adorned in a fancy suit that you'd never imagine he'd ever wear, hair slicked back with a few loose strands over his forehead, and his thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand.

did he get ahead of himself? "u-um—" every rational thought slipped from his mind, only a stuttering mess left behind. "i—"

"am i dreaming? you're really a prince?" you whisper, sleep still present in your voice and your hands lazily press against his cheeks. there's a slight burn against your fingertips, yet you still brush them just underneath his eyes, to confirm if you were awake or not.

he'll just go along with it. "yes... and i..." deep breaths, deep breaths. "i'd like to take you to the ball."

your head tilts in confusion. "the ball?" gears turn in your head as you put the puzzle pieces together. "like cinderella? but my hair! my makeup—!"

"you don't need any of that." he mumbles, lips pursing from his honesty. "you're pretty as you are right now."

"what about a dress? i don't have one..."

"you do." and he moves out of you way, enough for you to see the stunning dress that has magically appeared in your room.

you don't even have time to react before you're suddenly yanked up to your feet, one of his hands on your waist and the other still holding your hand. his feet start to move in a graceful pattern, and you somehow manage to fall into the rhythm, even with no music. you can see the amount of concentration on his face, as if he's practiced this day and night, knowing exactly where to go, exactly where to stop and pull you close and hold you tighter. for once, you seem to be more rattled than him.

finally, you're in line with the dress, hands tentatively reaching out to touch the material. it's beautiful, seeming to be your exact size as you lay it over your body.

the sound of you unzipping the back snaps haruka out of his trance, tumbling his way to the door. "i'll give you some privacy." though he can't see it, you nod, a soft smile overcoming your face as you continue to admire the garment in front of you.

now that you think about it, you have had an odd conversation here and there about clothing sizes, plus random visits to tailors because haruka's uniform "didn't fit anymore", plus going to more high-end shoe stores that you've always dreamed of going to, and oh.

he really did this all for you, didn't he?

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 2

Hit me Hard & Soft

word count - 1.6k

A/N - dont forget to like and rb ♡

Starting next week, my new posting schedule will be Tuesdays & Thursdays! Stay tuned!

Billie's POV

Sitting in my studio, I tweaked with the autotune feature to perfect the extended version of L’amour De Ma Vie. I didn’t realize it was already 5AM until my phone buzzed. I looked down at my lap as the screen lit up, showcasing a text from Remy.

Remy: Wish me luck! Fingers crossed I’m not fired after last week. 5:02am

Billie: 🤞🏻 5:02am

Billie: I’ll pick you up later and we’ll head to the Rolling Stone interview together? 5:03am

My eyes glossed over the screen waiting for her to reply, as I straightened my back on the chair. I locked it and put it on the table, returning my focus to my production set up. With the amount of bullshit she’s dealing with, I have a feeling Remy might bail today and I can’t blame her. In the back of my mind, I wished she wouldn’t. Finneas was so busy with his own album, so I told him to do his own thing tonight. Truth is, I didn’t want to show up to any of these things alone. Was that selfish? Lately, everything I feel is amplified, including that lonely, empty feeling I get around normal people bedtime. That’s when I did my best writing in the past year. It’s nerve-racking having all of my thoughts and emotions broadcasted to the world, and now that the tour is coming up, all I can think about is how I’ll do it alone.

The phone buzzed, bringing me out of my own mind. Upon opening, I sighed and replied while getting up to finally go to bed.

Remy: I’ll just meet you there. I have a lot of work to do today I don’t wanna make you late. 5:15am

Billie: Okay, see you there. 5:15am

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

The alarm rattled my brain, startling me to death. I flopped down my arm, patting around next to me and managed to find the source. My phone had 2 missed calls and a text from Remy. She let me know she’d be a bit late but would make it no matter what. Pulling a hair tie out of my tangled mess, I dragged my tired body out of bed to get ready for the interview.

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

“Billie, you’re going to be sitting over here, and Gabe is going to be interviewing you today, sitting over there.”

The coordinator waved me over in the right direction. I sat quietly and waited for the crew to finish up lighting and camera. Eventually, my interviewer walked over and made himself comfortable.

I laughed in disbelief and looked over at the coordinator, “Gabe?”

“Yup.” He leaned forward, holding his hand out to shake mine. He looked so pleased with himself. I ignored his reach, raising my brow. “Okay… nice to see you again, Billie.” He sat back and stifled a laugh.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, and glared at him. Thinking about having to act civil around this piece of garbage for the cameras is making me sick. God, I cannot stand him and his stupid face.

“Are we ready?” He cleared his throat.

I adjusted in my seat, looking around one more time past the studio lights and saw no Remy. “Yeah.” I could tell these bright lights would bring on a wave of tics, if not the unfortunate situation before me. Cameras closed in and the interview began.

I was basically on autopilot, trying not to destroy this man with my eyes. The last time I was face to face with Remy’s ex was 2 years ago. I was screaming at him to get the fuck out of her apartment. She made him pick up his things after he broke up with her for some other girl. Gabe swore he was just chasing a job offer in NYC, but Remy had seen messages between him and someone else planning to meet up. I stood at Remy’s side as he denied everything. He started a crazy argument and threw a glass across the room. I was on the other side of the room faster than he could react. Remy had never seen me that angry before.

“So! Your fans want to know. Who did you write Lunch about?” Gabe asked, knowing it would piss me off.

“That’s what you want to ask me? Of all things?” I laughed.

“Curious if I know her, is all.” He shifted in his seat and shrugged, nonchalantly. I wanna rip off his dumb smirk so bad.

I looked over at the cameras to have my very own The Office moment, but my eyes were drawn to none other than Remy. She awkwardly stood with her arms folded. I gave her a satisfied smile and when she waved at me, I quickly realized this is the last situation she probably wanted to walk into.

“No, It’s just a metaphor. I want people to think about who they want to eat for lunch. It’s just a fun song.” I crossed my legs and resumed eye contact with him, reminding myself to not look unfriendly for the cameras.

“You’re obviously very private about your love life.” He flipped through his notecards. I tilted my head, focusing on how stupid his stage voice sounds. “You came out last year-”

“This isn’t exactly news.” I squinted my eyes, smiling sarcastically. “Do you have any questions about my new album, Gabe?” I chuckled a bit.

He laughed, brushing me off. He asked a few questions about the album and I dragged out the answers as much as I could, so he wouldn’t have time to ask anymore stupid questions.

I managed to muscle through the rest of the interview and as soon as it was over I walked over to Remy, leaving him behind.

We walked into the room I left my phone in. “What the fuck.” Remy mouthed and pulled me into a hug.

“I know, let’s fucking go.” I grabbed her arm and started walking towards the exit.

“Remy! Hey!” Gabe shouted, making his way over to us. “How have you been?”

I could feel Remy mentally wilting away. “Good, good…Crazy seeing you here.” She spoke softly, smiling timidly.

“Well, I’ve been great!” He held his arms out, arrogant as can be, as if anyone asked.

“Did New York not work out?” I butted in.

“It did, but Los Angeles is home, you know?” He responded matter-of-factly, not even bothering to look at me. “You know I just chase better gigs. Better opportunities.”

“Yeah… Good for you, I’m happy for you, Gabe.” She smiled, keeping her voice sweet and mellow.

“You still working at uhh…” This idiot couldn’t even remember where she worked. I always hated him. He didn’t care enough about her. She deserved way better.

“Yeah, I’m-“ Remy was cut off.

“Maybe we should grab lunch one day. Catch up, you know?” He stepped closer to her.

I watched her face as she struggled to come up with an excuse. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe-“

“She’s actually good, she just doesn’t want to hurt your little feelings.” I crinkled my nose as I forced a smile at him, turning us towards the door.

“Billie, it’s fine-“ Remy grabbed my arm with her free hand and held it there.

Gabe laughed, knowing how deep under my skin he could get. “You look good, Rem. We’ll talk later without distractions.” He looked her up and down, licking his bottom lip.

I glared at him, imagining me shoving him away from her just like I did a couple years ago.

He looked down at me and paused for a second, his lips forming an overly confident smirk. He stood close enough for me to smell that gross overpowering cologne. I could feel myself tensing up and clenching my jaw.

“What, you don’t get enough attention?” I lifted my chin, looking in his dark eyes.

He breathed out a laugh, poking his tongue into his cheek. “Why, you want to share some with me?”

I took a step forward, causing Remy to put her arm between us. “Come on, Billie.” She put some pressure on his chest, causing him to lean back a bit. “Let’s go.”

He looked down at Remy’s hand pressing on his chest, then back at me sneering.

“Billie, please.” I let Remy pull me away, knowing if I stayed any longer I’d break something on his face.

He laughed to himself. “It was nice seeing you both. Good to see nothing has changed.”

“Yeah, absolutely nothing.” Remy emphasized, pushing me in front of her so we’d walk away.

We walked out past the fans screaming and reaching their hands through the holes on the fence, and straight into her car. As much as it killed me not to say goodbye to them, I didn’t have it in me to fake it.

“I hated that.” Remy began, starting her car and letting out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Remy, I could not stand his stupid fucking face. He was doing that shit to be disrespectful and I’m not gonna let him-“

“You can’t do shit like that! What if someone saw and wrote or posted about it?”

I put my seatbelt on, knowing I could’ve taken the high road.

“Dude you’re not actually thinking about seeing him right?”

“What? No! Why would I?” She pulled out of the parking lot, careful not to hit any fans.

“You seemed happy to see him.” I looked out the window as the people waving blurred from the increase in speed.

“No. I wasn’t. I just wasn’t going to attack him in front of his coworkers, Billie.”

“His team wasn’t in the room.” I mumbled.

She didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, I just fucking hate him. He’s such a piece of shit.”

“Shit, did you date him too?” She laughed under her breath, looking over at me momentarily.

I laughed, shaking my head and realizing how fast things escalated. My body finally relaxed, sinking into the seat and running my hands through my hair.

[jeonscatalyst]

https://x.com/inkedjkk/status/1831670685305114941?t=JUfQ9UQXLYowW2zfP1KgUA&s=19

Mind you this is some 9k+ followers acct

https://x.com/pinkorangesun/status/1831647803803902094?t=Gl9Z92VsCpcCa5GBQKJdOw&s=19

https://x.com/jikookreports/status/1831664356150386976?t=bWMuICdCMpkc3t7MGBTZng&s=19

I actually don't wish to be like a Tkkrs even on my worst enemy cause the guarantee of you ever turning to a normal human is 0 % there.

You know why I would never take these people seriously? They don’t even believe the things they say. They have spent years calling us jokers, laughing at us for believing in what we believe in and thinking we are gullible and stupid for letting the “company narrative” cloud our judgement of reality but look at the things they do. Why on earth would anyone feel the need to intentionally manipulate sub titles just to make it seem like Jk didn’t want to be there unless they are mighty insecure? I swear I wouldn’t feel the need to do any of these unless I am seriously worried that Jk might have been there because he actually wanted to be and I need to convince myself and my minions that he didn’t want to so we can feel better.

The funniest thing is, taekookers will have a much easier time if they just accepted that Jimin and Jungkook are friends who love each other. Because even if you really believe taekook is real why do you need to try to hard to invalidate the friendship of Jungkook and one of the members he’s known for over a decade? Friends can travel and do shows together can’t they? We know that Jungkook has been on multiple private trips with his friends outside of BTS, they’ve been around each other so much in chapter so why can’t they continue believing in their ship and just regard Jimin as one of Jk’s other friends? Unless they can’t do this because there is a part of them that sees exactly what we see and that frightens them. I have recieved asks from people sending me what some of the taekook blogs on here are saying and it is beyond ridiculous.

Imagine claiming that Jk was on his phone alot because Tae wasn’t in this episode like we didn’t all watch Tae spend 3/4 of his time in episode 4 and 5 on his phone when Jk was seated right next to him. So by their logic Tae has another lover who kept distracting him right? Plus Jk was actually on his phone in the episodes in Jeju too but it wasn’t as noticeable because there were two other people we could pay attention to while he was a bit distracted on his phone but when have taekookers ever cared for logic?

Imagine them also saying that Jk looked like he didn’t want to be there with Jimin in Sapporo Lmaoo. I think these people are forgetting that the trip in NY was the only one Jimin himself suggested. The trips to Jeju and Sapporo were BOTH Jimin and Jungkook’s ideas and from the look of things Jungkook might have been the one who suggested they go to Sapporo together, I mean he said this….

They also seem to forget that Jungkook is the one who spoke about wanting to do this till they are 50 and from the look of things he wasn’t joking because after NY, they went on to shoot in 2 other locations and might have done more if they had more time. Untop of that Jk basically spent this entire episode saying this….

I know they have never been good at listening to Jk but isn’t it common sense to know that if someone really doesn’t enjoy doing something they wouldn’t wanna do it again? Plus this whole travel show wasn’t an idea that came from the company (because I jusy know they would throw in the contract bullshit) this whole thing was only possible because Jimin and Jungkook wanted it to be. Jimin pitched the idea to the company with Jungkook’s approval and they made it happen so if Jungkook didn’t want it in the first place, even the NY trip wouldn’t have happened and that’s a fact.

They can go on crying about how Jk didn’t wanna be there even though we know he was the one who wanted to go back, or talk about how Jimin and Jungkook have no chemistry (we all saw the great chemistry taekook had in the jeju episodes with Tae being more interested in his phone and bed than anything else while Jungkook kept talking and interacting with Jimin mostly) but at the end of the day, when they look at this picture they know Jk was happy af to be there and only wanted to go back with the same person he was there with in 2017……

So let the haters cry. Let them gaslight themselves the way Jungkook was trying to gaslight himself about not liking the spicy braised chicken in Jeju lol. Let them continue convincing themselves that Jk had an awful time and only did it because he was contractually bound to while they have to wake up seeing this big smiles on his face while he is having a kdrama moment in the snow with his Jiminie hyung����

PS: Notice how Jungkook said he normally doesn’t like walking? But we know that the longest walk he has had in his life was in Japan with Jimin where they even had to walk slowly because Jimin’s feet hurt and here he is in Sapporo again walking with Jimin because he doesn’t mind walking in the snow with his Jiminie hyung🥰

[its-all-papaya]

do you have any clingy/possessive landoscar thoughts? 🤔

Yes. I do have thoughts. Thank you for asking.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I am… obsessed with clingy needy Lando. And I don’t write him suuuuper that way a lot, I usually try and rein him in, but if you want me to be self-indulgent, I can and will.

snippet at the end!

update: second bonus snippet here

Lando basically always wants Oscar. His attention, his laughter, his hands, his everything. All of it. All the time. Lando’s always been like that with the people he cares about. Max F, Carlos, everybody he’s ever dated… He knows he’s needy. He can usually keep a pretty good handle on things, though (he’s had a lot of practice). But sometimes, when his guard is down or when things are bad, his control over it slips a bit. And with Oscar, it’s like it’s ten times worse.

Even before they were properly close, Lando would get drunk and start asking after Oscar. His teammate was never out with them, but Lando would have his eighth drink in the club, or he’d do some lines with Max, or whatever, and it would be “I wish Oscar was here” and “can you call Oscar and ask if he’ll meet us?” and “I bet Oscar’s still awake, should I text him?” Extremely noticeable. And some of Lando’s more casual friends would be kind of blindsided because - again - Lando’s really good at being normal about Oscar when he’s got his whole brain to work with. But it’s Saturday night in Monaco over winter break and he says “it’s morning in Australia, I can FaceTime Oscar, right?” and his friends are like “didn’t know it was like that, mate?”

(He does FaceTime Oscar, on his walk home when there’s nobody to stop him, smile dopey as soon as Oscar picks up. The sun is shining in the background and making Oscar kind of glow around the edges, and Lando says “you look like an angel” and Oscar laughs and that’s even worse, Jesus, “you’re so pretty, Oscar, did you know?” and Oscar had been in the middle of a workout, but he sucks on his water bottle and grins and lets Lando talk nonsensically at him for 15 straight minutes until he’s safe and locked into his apartment with a glass of water on his bedside table. “Put some paracetamol out for yourself in the morning, okay? And sleep tight, Lando.” “Thanks, angel.”)

The second season is really different. They’re much looser and Lando forgets more often that he’s supposed to be holding himself back, giving Oscar space. It’s stupid, he’s been doing it with everyone all his life, but it’s like Oscar wipes his mind blank, and he’s weaseling his way under his arm every other minute at the MTC, hooking a chin over his shoulder while they review data, following him into his driver’s room after practice and talking Oscar through his entire hour, every lap. Oscar never really tells him off, though. He just nods and smiles his quiet smile and drops odd comments when Lando lets his train of thought go a little too far off track.

Getting closer with Oscar is probably a mistake for at least one of them, because it’s like giving Lando’s brain permission to think about him even more. Oscar’s thread is always near the top when Lando opens WhatsApp, and tapping his number to call is too near to muscle memory for Lando to talk himself out of it when he’s drunk. More often than not when he’s out, the night begins and ends with Oscar - a “coming tn?" as Lando walks in and a blurry, giggly “‘lo, Osc,” through a dark front camera on his way out.

Oscar starts out with a hint of decorum. He’ll throw a shirt on before answering Lando’s call, flick the bedside lamp on, and prop his phone up so his face is mostly in frame. That lasts a few weeks, then he starts answering in the middle of whatever he’s already doing (like brushing his teeth, one memorable time, when Lando had insisted on counting up to 120 for him to make sure he did a satisfactory job) and in whatever state he’s already in. By China, Oscar’s answering from bed half the time, face barely discernible in the dark of the hotel room, mostly just mumbling “mhm” while Lando tells him all about what he’s gotten up to at the bars.

SNIPPET (kind of? this was a bullet point and then I realized I was typing actual prose so it’s a bit of a blend… bare with me… it was like 2am for me when this was cooked up…)

Oscar doesn’t come out after Miami. But he does - and he’d deny this to anybody except Lando himself, probably, and even then only when Lando’s too fucked up to remember it - stay up waiting for Lando’s call. He’d congratulated Lando in person multiple times at the track, but it doesn’t feel the same. It’s embarrassing to admit, but as much as he used to find Lando’s drunk calls a little inconvenient (though always distantly amusing) he’s grown quite attached to them somewhere along the line - the quiet intimacy, the little jokes and admissions and compliments Lando hands out when he’s far gone and using Oscar to bring himself down. Lando doesn’t call anybody else like that (Oscar had asked him once, when he was waiting for his Uber in some city or another at half two in the morning). It’s just for them - a special them. 

It gets late, though. Lando always rings late, but it gets late enough that Oscar starts worrying that Lando won’t call at all, that he’s taken someone home, or he’s passed out on someone’s couch, or he’s planning to be out so late it turns right over to early the next day instead. The sun is rising when his phone finally goes off. He’s dozed a bit on and off, the exhaustion of his own race winning out for minutes at a time, but he’s left his ringer on to make sure he doesn’t miss Lando. It’s a special occasion, yeah? He can’t be held accountable. He just doesn’t want to be the one responsible for bringing Lando down from his high inadvertently by shirking his cooldown call. 

Anyway, it’s past 4 a.m. when Oscar’s jolted from his half-daze by the notification, and he sees he’s missed a few texts ahead of time, asking if he’s awake. He hadn’t answered, obviously, but Lando’s calling anyway. Oscar’s too tired, brain too soft and amorphous, to decide how to feel about that at the moment.

“Morning, angel,” he says when he picks up. It’d started as a joke, as most of their little idiosyncrasies had, a reversal, but it’s probably not totally that anymore.

“Oscar,” Lando says. Oscar had expected him to be loud, still riding out his high, but he’s practically whispering. When Oscar finally musters up the will to check the screen, Lando’s in the dim dark somewhere. All quiet.

“Yeah, babe.” They don’t talk like this normally. It’s like these calls exist in a liminal space between their day-to-day lives now and whatever Oscar’s convinced they’re headed towards.

“It’s not morning,” Lando says. A light turns on off-screen.

“Not for you, maybe. I was asleep.” Oscar rubs at his eyes for effect, even though Lando’s not really looking at the phone. His eyes snap to the camera at that, though, and Oscar watches his face fall a little.

“I woke you?”

Oscar doesn’t give it long before he’s shushing Lando gently, “It’s alright. I’m glad you did, I want to hear about your night.”

Lando brightens back up. He’s not as drunk as Oscar expected, but he’s far enough from sober to be pretty suggestible, still, pretty easy with a smile.

He launches into a story about Max and some other names Oscar instantly forgets and a band Oscar’s never heard of, and - as the camera jostles with Lando’s efforts to pry his own shoes off - Oscar realizes he’s already back to his hotel room. 

When Lando hits a long enough pause in his rambling, Oscar says, “Hey, Lan, you want to get ready for bed? You should sleep a little.”

Lando’s nose wrinkles and his face takes on the petulant tilt Oscar is well-acquainted with after half a year of these late-night-early-morning calls.

“C’mon,” he encourages, “you’ll feel better tomorrow. I’ll help.”

Lando agrees, though he still looks a little sour about it, so Oscar talks him slowly through his nighttime routine between stretches of “Oh! Oscar! Max called Charles pretty five times, I think," and “Have you ever had a cherry bomb? Someone ordered me one.” Oscar helps him pick out a soft t-shirt to sleep in and reminds him to fill a glass with water for the bedside table and counts to 120 while Lando brushes his teeth, phone propped against the mirror. 

When everything’s sorted and Lando is sliding into bed, Oscar yawns and says, “Good to go?”

Unexpectedly, Lando’s eyes go big and kind of watery at that, and he picks the phone up from the covers and brings it close to his face so Oscar’s screen is mostly pout.

“You’re going?” Lando asks, and he sounds so forlorn that Oscar can feel his heart ache in his chest.

“Was going to,” Oscar confirms, even though it hurts a little, “You want me to stay?”

The light’s off, but Oscar can still see Lando hide his face in his pillow. It’s no surprise, then, when Lando’s, “Yeah. Please?” comes out muffled by the bulk of it.

Oscar softens to it. It was never a question.

“Okay,” he says, “you need me to talk? Or just stay on?”

“Stay on,” Lando says. His voice is back to normal, but it’s tiny, a little fragile. So different from the hours and hours leading up to this, Oscar thinks, contextualizing.

“Might fall asleep,” Oscar warns. His lamp’s back off, too, and with Lando safe and sound, Oscar’s bed feels cozier than ever.

“S’okay,” Lando says, “me too.”

“That’s good,” Oscar sets his phone next to him on the bed. Lando’s done the same, both screens matching black and gray, matching hotel ceilings just a few doors apart. “Goodnight, race winner.”

Lando’s laugh is mostly just a hard exhale, but it warms Oscar from the inside out just the same.

“Goodnight, angel.”

(I wrote another whole scene for this ask but this got kind of long already.... so if anybody would like to see it.... all it takes is one little ask... lmk.... xoxo)

[the0doreslover]

hii ! i absolutely love your writing and i don’t really know if you do requests but if you do i have one for theodore nott.

it’s inspired by the song blue hair by tv girl. basically the reader is a metamorphmagus and has blue hair. this song can be interpreted in many ways and i absolutely love it for this so it’s really up to you. i personally see it as the blue hair would represent her childish side. how theodore and her have known each other since their childhood and been through every moment in her life, her insecurities when she asks him how to be funny or pretty. he loves this side of her. he’s always had a crush on her. but then he slowly sees her falling apart. maybe from other people’s jugement or she just matured. and she cut her blue hair or maybe decided to change her hair colour because of this and he just misses her old side.

feel free to change as much things as you want

xo

Thank you so much! it means so much to me when people say this, i absolutely love this request here you go x

Blue hair | theodore nott x fem!reader

You and Theodore had been friends longer than either of you could remember. The vibrant threads of your connection began in the earliest days of childhood, where laughter and whispers echoed through hidden alcoves. He was your confidant, and you were his. He saw you for more than the colors of your hair, something you were deeply insecure about.

He was there through some of the most important moments of your life (even the most embarrasing ones) like when you accidentally dropped an glass of water on the table while your family was having dinner with the notts and turned your hair purple out of sheer embarrassment. While your mother scowled, he pushed his own glass all over himself getting up and throwing a fuss, shifting the attention onto himself. It was something you would never forget.

As the years passed, your bond only grew stronger.

From the moment you entered hogwarts you were noticed, not in the way you wanted though.

"why is your hair blue?" a little girl asked while you were all waiting to be sorted

"why is yours blonde?" theo butted in for you watching as the girl stuttered before he put an arm around your shoulder.

Your unique ability as a metamorphmagus had always fascinated him. He loved how you could change your appearance at will, yet he could always see the true you beneath the surface. Your blue hair, which was what he sometimes saw as a representation of your childish side, only added to your charm in his eyes.

He would happily fight anyone who bullied you, and he did a few times

you had gotten one of the highest scores in your charms assignment and you were getting heavily praised which seemed to upset a few people,

"the chameleon got more than me?" you didn't even have time to see who had made the comment before you heard a loud bang, you turned around and saw theodore on top of seamus finnigan holding his arms down shouting at him to apologise.

After that incident no one dared to say anything... to your face at least.

One day, during your fourth year, as the sun set behind the castle's spires, you found yourselves sitting by the Black Lake. The waters shimmered in shades of gold, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers. Your voice broke the peaceful silence, "How do i make myself interesting ?"

He turned his gaze towards you, increasing your heart rate as he opened his mouth to answer. "you don't"

"what do you mean?" you asked

"you're already the most interesting person i know"

"theo i'm being serious"

"so am i"

you dropped the subject realising you weren't going to get the answer you wanted and it quickly settled back into a comfortable silence

"You know that you're more than your hair right? more than anyone's judgment. you don't need to change a thing."

"yeah, it was stupid sorry" you said lying through your teeth

Over time, your feelings for Theodore began to shift. What once was an innocent friendship evolved into something deeper. You found yourself looking forward to your moments together, cherishing the way his laughter warmed your heart and his presence made the world feel a little brighter.

But life had a way of throwing unexpected challenges your way. As sixth year approached, the weight of impending reality and responsibilities pressed down on you.

The colors of your hair began to fade as you grappled with the complexities of growing up. You started questioning yourself, your choices, and even your appearance.

What even was normal? brown, blonde, black, ginger? why do you have to look the same as everyone else to be liked.

you stood before the mirror in your dorm room, your once-vibrant blue hair now a muted shade, it only ever shifted to murky colours now. You felt a pang sadness, your hair didn't glow like it used to anymore, You hated it, just as much as everyone else hated you for it, you weren’t ‘normal’

You grabbed the pair of scissors on the desk and brought it to your hair. You closed your eyes and once you opened them again you saw a chunk of 'normal' coloured hair on the ground.

Pansy came into the dorm a few moments later and saw you on your bed staring at the wall.

She helped you even out your hair while rubbing your back, she wasn't used to seeing you without some sort of colour tinting your hair but she stayed silent and instead stayed rubbing your back and wiping your tears.

a lot of people noticed the change in your hair... how could they not, your hair hadn't been a different colour for weeks

"your hair looks so much better like this"

"i love your hair"

"keep it like this"

"you look so much better now"

"why would you do that?" Theodore said slowly coming into the common room where you sat between your friends.

"do what?" you asked quickly waving at a new person who had taken interest in you after your change

"y/n don't act dumb, why would you cut your hair"

"i wanted to do something different"

"you wanted to do something different or you wanted to be someone different"

"i-"

"don't even answer that" he said storming up to his dorm

After a few days theo had apologised to you, which you happily accepted missing his importance in your life, he still made it very clear his views on your choice but decided to quiet down.

You wouldn’t admit it but you were slowly regretting your decision more and more each day, you missed the way you got to wake up every morning wondering what colour your mind had made your hair today, you missed feeling different and most of all you missed the way theo loved it.

"Theo?" you asked breaking the peace of your current predicament, which was you both under a tree while he read aloud to you.

"yeah"

"Do you think i'm pretty?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

He set his book aside and scooted closer to you. "i've always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world."

“even without my colourful hair?” you pressed

“of course, it made me sad you thought you had to cut your blue hair off in order to become liked but you did, and i can’t change that… i don’t love you any less”

You sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you.

"But Im not pretty anymore right! i used to be funny, didn't I? And my hair... It used to be... I thought maybe it's time to grow up. My hair was childish"

Theodore reached out, placing a hand on yours. "Your hair was, or should i say is, a part of who you are, you're allowed to change, but sometimes it's best to keep the most amazing parts of you the same. Your blue hair was never a sign of childishness; it was a testament to your uniqueness and your willingness to be yourself."

Weeks turned into months, and as the final week of your sixth year drew to a close, the future loomed before you both. On the eve of your last day, you stood on the Astronomy Tower, gazing at the stars.

Your hair had slowly been returning to its colourful hue, but you knew that this time, the color was more than just a physical trait.

Theodore stood beside you, his presence comforting. "It's a big world out there," he said softly. "But no matter where life takes us next year, remember that you'll always be the girl with the cool hair to me, as much as you hate it, you're my girl with the cool hair"

you smiled and leaned against him

"i love you" he said confidently "i love you for you and that's not going to change. Even when your hair goes back to it's normal colour i'll still love you more than i will ever be able to express"

“you think my hair is going to go back to it’s normal colours?” you asked hopefully

“i know it will, i’ll personally make sure it does”

"i love you too"

and despite the fact you couldn't see it, theodore pulled you into a tight embrace looking down on the new blue hairs that had just begun glowing.

[waddleonmywaywardducks]

Practicing with adhd.... (A kinda long commentary on how to work with ADHD in your practice instead of against it)

(disclaimer: I'm making this post as someone who has a struggled with ADHD. In no way am I glorifying mental illness or symptoms of mental illness. This is just something I've dealt with all my life and i know other people have too. I'm just posting my own experience and advice. You do not have to use this at all.)

I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was either 7 or 9 and have been struggling with it ever since, idk why I never grew out of it. Over the years of practicing, I've encountered a lot of practitioners with the same problem as me, only all of their advice was to try to get rid of ADHD has much as possible, well I tried that, I'm still the same. But that's just it, ADHD is apart of me, whether I like it or not. For years, I've always hated my ADHD, I constantly feel stupid, childish, and not responsible, but I am, I just need to work with my ADHD instead of around it. And that my friends is what Im going to teach you all here today, so grab a nice comfort TV show and a fidget bc your ADHD ass WILL READ THIS POST!!!!!!!!

My biggest problem with adhd and witchcraft

honest to the Gods, my biggest problem has got to be that witchcraft isnt dogmatic, you aren't going to get a rule book, there is no duality, you pick what's right from wrong, you make your practice your own. I had such a hard time figuring that out because I'm a very hands on learner. I grew up in a Christian household, most historical events that I wanted to research I could read in the Bible, or go to a church, or if I wanted to find community to help me figure out where to go well....it's basically all around me. But we don't have that with witchcraft. We only have ourselves (unless you were born into pagan/witchy family then lucky you I guess 😭😭). So obviously the only thing we can do is research.

"but omg chaos,,, I can't research I have executive dysfunction!"

I understand. Executive dysfunction is so weird why do humans have this??? Why was this built into my system??? Anyways, the best advice I can give you for executive dysfunction is that you can either go one of two ways:

1.) while you are laying in bed, cursing yourself to get up and do something. At least do something, but you just can't. That's ok. Dont beat yourself up about it, honestly the more you do that the more you're not going to want to do it. Allow yourself to be like this, allow yourself to just lay there. If you need to give offerings but you just can't get up, say sorry out loud, I always find that this brings me comfort and that my deities will know I'm truly sorry. Then forget about it, now it's time to allow yourself to just be. And then you wait until you find the strength to do it. That's it. Just be.

2.) you're laying in bed and you really need to give offerings to your deities. Get up. Just do it. Immediately once you have the thought in mind don't even think about it just do it. I know this doesn't work 100% of the time but it does for me. So 🤷

"how do I know if my practice is my own or if it's just a hyper-fixation?"

OK OK. I don't know anyone else who has this struggle but I have. When I started out, I was just a bright eyed kid filled with questions about the "unholy". I really started practicing when I was like 13-15. During these times, I didn't know how strong my hyper-fixation was with Greek mythology and religion until I fell out of that fixation. It was very disappointing to see myself gain so much momentum only to come crashing down. One thing that helped me decipher whether my practice was my own or not was simply asking questions to myself about my own beliefs and upg. If I couldn't answer these questions then I knew I wasn't really practicing I was just researching. Without my own experience, my own UPG, my spells weren't working correctly, and my rituals were failing. If there is no emotion behind it for me then the spell is just a bunch of herbs in a bottle.

"I struggle with grounding and meditation, how can I become better at that?"

Firstly, I need people to realize that I don't believe there is one right way to meditate. For me, starting out, I listened to guided meditations which helped me A LOT. Guided meditations I feel like are really slept on but I got a lot of communication done with my deties through this way, I met one of my guides this way bro. Another way you could do is laying down. As long as you are allowing yourself time to get into the meditative state, and if you can't, oh well, don't beat yourself up about, you can always try again.

"I have trouble remembering herb properties, correspondences, and holidays"

Write. Everything. down. Every spell you've ever created, every experience you have with your deties, every tarot card reading. Write it all down. Cross-research everything until something sticks. Give up the idea that grimoires need to look a certain way or give off a certain vibe. Just start writing shit down. In any book.

How I work with ADHD in my practice

Have you guys ever seen those post, I think they were floating around here around like 2019 or 2020?? They we're like "spells to get rid of ADHD" or "spells to get rid of depression" and shit like that. Yeah, I never understood those. I don't understand why we are treating these illnesses/disabilities like they are monsters?? I hate the ideology that all illnesses are bad, because yeah they impose a great risk to our health, but we can always look on the brighter side of things. My ADHD allows me to feel more deeply, because of this I feel connected to the gods always. My ADHD makes me passionate about my Interests in the gods, my ADHD can work with me.

Some ways I work with ADHD in my practice is by making a schedule and sticking to it but a bigger importance to that is recognizing when I need a break. During days that are dedicated to the gods, or holidays, I often times have a big thing planned that might take up a lot of energy. I allow myself breaks with things that aren't witchcraft related at all, then when I'm ready I pick it back up from where I left off.

I honestly think if you are reading this and you're like "yeah maybe I should start working with my ADHD instead of against it....but none of this stuff is hitting for me."

Then I advice you to look at your own symptoms and try to see if you can find any way you can work with yourself. For example, if one of my symptoms was that I was impulsive, one thing I would do is dedicate something impulsive to one of my gods. Like dying my hair, going out of town for the night, getting drunk on a Tuesday afternoon (keep it stable buddy.), who gives a fuck. You are using your symptoms in a way that works with it instead of against it.

In conclusion....

I've had this post in mind for a while I just never had the words for it until now, and I still don't even know if this makes sense😭😭 I just hope to help atleast someone (it's 3 am and I literally decided to write this like....20 minutes ago.) this post was also me bashing on people who think ADHD is "all bad." Anyways, if anyone has any other advice or suggestions on how to work with ADHD, please leave them in the comments! I would love to get as much advice from adhd practitioners as I can! Alright I'm going to sleep now

[joeshiestyslover]

you promised

pairing: joe burrow x actress!reader

summary: joe promised to come to your premiere, but sometimes, some promises aren’t always kept

warnings: language, hints to smut at the end, very shitty dialogue, angst with a happy ending

lowercase intended

after all the months that you spent filming and working around your busy schedule, you were finally done. your long awaited netflix tv show was coming out in two days. you couldn’t be more excited for both the release and the premiere. this is your big break, this show is going to put you on the map. after this show, more and more people are gonna want to know your name.

you picked out the perfect dress, shoes, and jewelry for the premiere. but you couldn’t forget your perfect date, joe burrow. you and joe met in college at lsu while you were studying psychology. you both immediately clicked and have been together ever since. joe is the perfect boyfriend, the whole package. he’s sweet and extremely charming. it also helps that he’s fine as fuck.

after joe was drafted to the bengals, you made the leap and decided to move with him to cincinnati. it turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made. the city is beautiful, easy to navigate and you get to be around joe almost all the time.

you’re in the bedroom packing for your trip to brooklyn, new york, where the premiere is scheduled to be held. you’re just about to head into the bathroom to collect your toiletries when you hear the garage door open. finally, joe was home and you finally have the chance to talk to him about what he is going to wear to the premiere.

“babe, i’m home!” you hear joe yell from downstairs. shortly after, you hear his heavy footsteps coming towards your shared bedroom. you then feel his arms snake around your waist and him pressing his lips to your cheek. “whatcha doing?” he asks. “i’m packing.” you respond. “for what?” ummmm. “for the the flight to new york tomorrow morning” you remind him. “my premiere’s in two days remember?” “shit y/n” he starts. oh hell no, you think. “joseph lee burrow, do not tell me you forgot about one of the most important nights of my life.” you slightly raise your voice as you turn around to face him. “i’m so sorry, but i promised the rookies i’d take them out to dinner.” you are beyond pissed now. if it slipped his mind, that’s one thing, but making plans on top of it and basically insinuating that his plans were more important than yours, that’s where you draw the line.

“you promised joe.” you can feel the tears of frustration start to pool in your eyes, but you don’t dare to let them fall. “you said you would be there and i expected you to keep your fucking promise.” “i really am sorry y/n, but i can’t skip this dinner; i promised those guys.” he says regretfully. “promised, my ass joseph. so you can keep your promises to your new teammates, but you can’t keep your promise to me? your girlfriend of three years? are you fucking kidding me?” you’re yelling now, no longer being able to hold back the tears.

“that’s not what i meant and you know it.” now joe was starting to get angry, as if he has the fucking right. “oh really?” you scoff. “then what did you mean? please enlighten me.” “i-” he starts to say, but you cut him off. “save it joe i don’t wanna talk about this anymore. i am going to that premiere because i promised everyone that i would, and unlike you joseph, i keep my promises.” at the last word, you poke at his chest, but you weren’t done yet. “you know i don’t see how it’s fair that i’m at every single event that’s important to you, and i show up to almost every game, and i have no problem cancelling plans with my friends, hell, even my fucking family, but you can’t push your stupid dinner back a couple of days for me? you know how important this is to me, but apparently it doesn’t mean shit to you.” “y/n-” “shut the fuck up joe. i’m going to this premiere, with or without you, but just so you know, if i show up alone, then it will be a very clear reflection of just how much you care about me and my accomplishments.” by the time you’re done with your rant, you’re panting, and you can feel the tears stalling at your chin. joe looks at you with sad eyes, but it’s clear that he has nothing to say.

“so that’s it? you’re just not gonna say anything?” you ask him, hoping he’ll get on his knees and beg to come with you to new york. but you’re met with silence. “okay” you say. “i’m gonna finish packing, then i’m gonna stay in the guest room tonight. if you change your mind, the flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow morning.” you take your toiletry bag into the bathroom and stuff your skincare products, makeup, and your hygiene products into it. you go back into the bedroom to find joe no longer standing there.

you can feel your tears resurfacing, but you refuse to cry for him. if he would rather go to dinner with his friends, then so be it. you were not going to let him ruin the best night of your life for you. after you finish packing, you grab your suitcase, and walk into your guest bedroom, but it’s already occupied by joe. he’s lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone, acting like you didn’t just yell at him. wow, you think. he doesn’t even feel just a little bit guilty. you walk out of the room and go back into your bedroom. you don’t like how it feels in there. it’s cold and gloomy, much different than the usual joy and warmth it’s filled with. you set your alarm for 7:00 and go straight to bed, not wanting to think about joe and your argument any longer. you toss and turn on the bed for god knows how long, knowing that joe is probably sleeping just fine without you. sleep is different without him, and you don’t like it one bit. all you want is to run into that guest bedroom and crawl into bed next to him, but you will not give into him; not until he gets his head out of his ass. finally, after what feels like hours of just rolling around the bed, you fall asleep.

your alarm blaring wakes you up from your dreamless sleep. after a few minutes of just lying on your bed, you sit up and walk into your bathroom. you look in the mirror, with your reflection looking back at you. i look like a fucking mess, you think to yourself. you brush out your hair and put it up just to keep it out of your face. then after brushing your teeth, you walk out of the bathroom and sneak down the hall to the guest room. you quietly open the door, and see him still sleeping. you want to wait a while, just to see if he’ll wake up and go to the airport with you, but you can’t. you know that the thirty minutes you spend waiting will turn into an hour, then two hours, and you’ll end up missing your flight, and you won’t let that happen.

you shut the door and go into your room to grab your suitcase and backpack. you roll it into your living room, and sit on your couch while waiting for the uber you ordered. you’re on your phone scrolling through tiktok, when you hear a door open and footsteps coming closer to you. you look up and find joe staring at you. joe breaks the eye contact and walks into the kitchen. your worst fear confirmed; you were going to new york alone. you soon get the alert that your uber has just pulled up to your house, so you grab your stuff and walk out your front door without sparing joe a single glance.

the trip to new york went smoothly, and you were able to check into your hotel, but you forgot the reservation was made under joe’s name. oh great! another reminder that he isn’t going to show up! you do everything you can to not think about joe, but everything seems to remind you of him. you hate being without him. you have the urge to text him, but you can’t. he has to know that he fucked up and he won’t be forgiven that easily.

the day of the premiere you’re shitting bricks. you didn’t realize just how much you need joe until you didn’t have him by your side helping you calm down. it also doesn’t help that he has been absolutely radio silent. the tiny voice in the back of your head constantly telling you, you’re not important enough and he has better things to do than waste his time with you.

you try to keep your mind off of him. you try to converse with your hair and makeup artist whilst she gets you ready. it works for a while, but you can’t stop thinking about him. he should be here, spending this moment with you, laughing and smiling with you, but if he didn’t think that you were important enough then fuck him.

once it’s time to go, you hop into the limousine, and it takes you to the theater where the premiere is. when you get there, the limo comes to a stop, and you get out. as soon as you walk out, you can hear thousands of people screaming your name. you plaster on a fake smile and walk over to the screaming fans, signing autographs and taking pictures. you’re soon guided by your manager to different reporters wanting to interview you. the first few interviews going great; the interviewers mostly asking what filming was like and how well you get along with your costars. one of the interviewers however, asks you the question you have been dreading to answer. “so y/n y/ln, where is your boyfriend, joe burrow tonight?” you try to think of an answer without sounding snippy or pitiful. “well you know we’re very busy people” you start to say. “sometimes our schedules just don’t align the way we want them to, so we just have to accept it and move on.” okay, that went well.

you finish up interviews and start to pose for pictures, the flashing of the cameras becoming almost blinding. after a few minutes, your manager walks up to you. “joe’s here.” she says.

what.

you look at her confused until you look over her shoulder to find your boyfriend dressed in a black suit with subtle patterns walking towards you. you don’t know whether to smile at him or slap him. he comes up to you and hugs you tightly as he whispers in your ear, “i’m so sorry baby, you were right. i was so fucking selfish and you deserve the same amount of support that you give me.” you fight the tears and whisper back a “thank you.”

you two pose for a little while longer until it’s time to walk into the theater. you take your seats, and joe takes your hand into his. soon after you sit down, the first two episodes of the show start to play on the screen. about halfway into the second episode, you look over at joe to see him with slight tears in his eyes. he feels your gaze, and turns to you with a smile. you smile back at him and once again turn your attention to the big screen.

once the episodes ended, you and joe socialize with your costars a bit during the after party before deciding it was time to go home. as you both start to walk back to joe’s car, he stops and turns to you. “i know i already told you, but words cannot explain how sorry i am. i was selfish and an idiot, and i was wrong for not taking your feelings into account. i love you and it wasn’t fair to you at all.” joe tells you with tears threatening to escape his eyes. “joe, i love you more than anything, and i’m glad you realized you were wrong, but this cannot happen again. what you did was hurtful, and all i wanted was for you to want to experience this moment with me. you made me feel unimportant, and as though you didn’t care about my successes.” you tell him, somehow holding back your sob, but your tears are flowing freely. “i never wanted to make you feel that way y/n. i’m so fucking proud of you and i’m so happy for you. you mean everything to me; i promise you this won’t happen again, and i know that i’m not the best at keeping my promises, but i intend on keeping this one.”

“good.” you smile. you wrap your hand around the back of his neck and you pull his lips to meet yours. the kiss slowly becomes more and more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. after a while of making out in the parking lot, you both break away for air. “you wanna go back to the hotel and celebrate properly?” you ask him, panting. “fuck yeah baby.” he picks you up over his shoulder and all but sprints to the car, unable to wait to get you back to the hotel room.

a/n: i hope y’all liked it. i haven’t written anything in a hot minute so please go easy on me 😭😭

[dixonsstinkysock]

"Je t'aime de tout mon cœur."

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Daryl Dixon x Daughter, (slight Carol x Reader???)

Era: Daryl Dixon: The Book of Carol

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Descriptions of the Dead… THIS TAKES PLACE IN EPISODE 1 OF THE BOOK OF CAROL, IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN IT AND WANT NO SPOILERS, DO NOT READ.

Word Count: 3,441

Chapter Summary: Carol, Reader, and Remy start their search for someone who’s been gone far too long.

A/N: This is (sorta) my first x reader fic. I’m super excited and nervous at the same time, I’ve worked very hard on this chapter so I hope it’s readable. Also this entire fic was inspired by @villifix !! They are so creative and are basically the reason I’m writing this 😭😭. Sooo Thank you so much for inspiring me! (and letting me use your character concept muah) I don’t know alot about guns or cars so bear with me here. One more thing, I feel like Carol is very protective over the reader and Remy in this, which is mostly biased because I think she’s hot and I want her to protect me…okay goodbye.

Click–clack..click–clack..click– 

“Ow! Damn– ...Sorry.” You adjust the rearview mirror to glance at the 17 year old in the backseat– who should be asleep– instead messing with that stupid butterfly knife.

“What happened? I thought you were sleeping.” You mentioned, slightly annoying at the fact she’s still trying to perfect her knife tricks, over getting some rest. Carol looks back at the hazel-eyed girl, checking if the wound is bad enough to pull-over. “You’ll be okay Rem, it’s just a small knick. Be more careful–Please. We wanna bring you back home in one piece.” 

“Right..I’ll be more careful.” Remy agreed, her voice small and soft, as if she’s a little..embarrassed. “Uhm..Mom, could we stop for a minute?” she asks with a slight country accent–an accent she got from being raised by a certain redneck archer. “I kinda have to pee..” 

“Sure Angel Face, it can’t hurt us to take a short break.” You smile at her through the rearview and turn to pull onto a dirt patch on the side of the road.

Remy walks a little out into the brush–knife in its sheath–hidden a little under her purple zebra striped dress. You and Carol are leaned up against your car, a white, 2010 Toyota Matrix. “Have you noticed anything off about Remy recently?” You question, turning to face Carol. “It’s like she’s…I don’t know–Distracted?” Carol responds immediately, already having an idea of what the problem was.

“Well..We’ve been looking for Daryl non-stop and we’ve had no luck so far. Not so much as even a clue. She’s worried, I don’t blame her..I am too.”

Remy stands, fixing her dark brown-striped leggings. It’s quiet, the only sounds are the leaves rustling, a squirrel scurrying home with dinner. It’s almost peaceful–if you forget the dead are roaming around. Unfortunately, the smell is too pungent to miss, their throaty growl, the agonizingly slow footsteps or the sound of their decaying body separating as they drag themselves against the ground. Remy knows the feeling, knows the sound, the smell–it’s like being watched..being hunted. 

It isn’t hard finding the lone walker, Remy gets closer to “put it out of its misery” as she says. She knows that the dead aren’t people anymore but she still prefers to give them the respect they deserve– for them to finally rest in peace…sometimes pieces.

Carol notices her first, itching to get back on the road and continue their search for their beloved hunter. You all pile back into the car, preparing for the long journey ahead. You look back at Remington–your daughter–she’s grown so much, so fast.

“You okay Rem? No bites?”

“Yeah, No bites.”

Turrrr..turrrr..turrrrrr

“You hear that?’

“Yeah..There!” 

Carol frantically points to where the familiar noise is coming from– a motorcycle– specifically Daryl’s motorcycle but…No Daryl. 

“Mom, is that–” 

“Yes it is, buckle up please.” Of course, Remy is already buckled.. She doesn’t feel safe riding in a vehicle without a seatbelt– especially with her mother driving. You whip the car around, now following behind the bike– matching its speed, determined to find out where this random man got Daryl’s bike from.

Carol rolls the window down, leaning out of it to aim her handgun at him. Only wanting to do enough damage to where he stops– and is still able to be questioned after the crash.

BANG! SCREEEEEK! 

Fortunately, the man is almost perfectly intact..besides the bullet wound in his shoulder. Also– lucky for him– You’re able to bring the car to a halt just before running him over. Carol gets out of the car, slowly, the stranger obviously isn’t going anywhere. She walks to the trunk, and pulls out her Weatherby PA-08, already loaded.

Approaching the injured man, aiming her shotgun–

“Where’d you get the bike?” Her voice is flat, but confident.

“W-Wait! Don’t shoot..please..” The man’s voice was shaky and unclear, almost on the verge of tears as he held his wounded shoulder.

“Where did you get the bike?”

You’re still in the car, not bothering to get out, knowing Carol can handle this herself. That crash was loud enough to draw a good amount of walkers– you hope to get out of here before then. Remy’s in the backseat twirling the ends of her short braids, a nervous tic she’s had since she grew hair.

Carol checks the man for any weapons, she finds a small hunting knife and a handgun similar to her own. No bullets. You decide to get out of the car now, wondering what’s taking so damn long.

“He know anything?”

“Yeah a little..Let’s tie him up. Leave him in one of those trunks over there.”

Walking back towards the car, Carol picks up Daryl’s bike, turning it in the direction you all were heading in the first place and walks it to the driver window.

“Follow me, there’s a junkyard a couple miles from here. That’s where he said he got the bike.”

“Alright, right behind you.” Remy climbs in the front seat, her mood lightened, knowing that we are one more step closer to finding the man who raised her.

You stop the car a few miles from– what you assume– is the place you need to be. Carol pulls up beside you as you roll your window down.

“I’m gonna ride up on that hill right there– Take a look at the place. Stay here until I come back.”

Around 5 minutes go by, when you see Carol riding the old death machine back towards you. “So?”

“I only saw a few people, but there might be more inside. Let’s walk straight in there– show that we’re friendly.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You start the car up, putting on your best poker face. “I’ll let you do the talking, people seem to trust you more.” You say, teasing Carol at the fact she’s so good at manipulating people..a little more than she should be. She gets the job done so maybe you shouldn’t complain too much.

“Ha-Ha Fine. I’ll do all the work, again.”

“Oh–Whatever” 

You both laugh, and start heading towards the Camp. Carol gets off the bike, while you and Remy get out of the car, staying a few steps behind Carol and ready to move if need be. Her hands are up, and her steps are slow– an “I’m Friendly, Don’t Shoot” gesture. Clearing her throat she starts–

“Ahem…Hello..” The 3 men startle, spinning around and stopping what they’re doing to find out where the new voice is coming from. You notice a familiar crossbow in the hands of an unfamiliar man. He sets the bow down on one of the cars hood and picks up a new tire– walking away from the weapon. It felt like seconds..Carol attacking them after the man walked away. Before you knew it Carol had Daryl’s crossbow back, one of his arrows in someone's foot, and new information.

You decided to leave your old car back there, running low on gas and starting to overheat. You’d gotten lucky to make it that far. Carol decided to take the Mercedes Benz SLS one of the guys had just finished working on, the same guy who had Daryl’s bow.

“Sucks, we had to leave his bike back there…” Remy murmured, her voice back to being soft and small, her lower lip slightly jutted out. She’s always had a problem with letting thing’s go– worthless or not, everything means something to her. 

The Boatyard was a waste of time. A couple beached, useless, boats aren’t going to help you in your search for Daryl, especially in getting to Europe somehow. You can tell Carol is getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Everytime you think you’re finally getting somewhere– it’s another dead end.

Getting back on the road with no destination– again– had tensions rising.

Carol was quiet, Remy was jotting down everything we had learned in her old tattered notebook. She’d been writing more, sometimes drawing, You’ve gotten a few peeks here and there when she falls asleep re-reading everything. 

“-ey..Helloo? Earth to Y/N.” 

“Yeah? Sorry..lost in thought… Did you need something?” You noticed the pair of square sunglasses Carol found in the car, they look good on her.

“Just wanted to see if they had anything good in that glove box, the silence is making me itchy” Opening the glove box, you find a couple audio cassettes inside, different rock bands, pop, etc. You grabbed a random tape and handed it to Carol, still looking at all the other ones. Some lady with a high pitched voice starts singing. Obviously Carol is not into it and throws it out the window.

Another tape. An up-beat instrumental, again not a fan.

A third tape. You should’ve been carefully reading the names on the cassettes before giving them to her, but honestly, finding the right song wasn’t important right now. It’s a meditation audio, she hates it. Almost breaks the radio trying to get it out. With no luck, she decides to try and follow the instructions coming from the tape..taking a deep breath in..and then–screaming in frustration.

Kinda awkward but you understand, Remy decides to lay down in the back seat, trusting Carol enough to take her seatbelt off for the first time while the vehicle is still in motion. Carol hears a strange whirring noise, like a plane or a helicopter. She looks through the windshield up at the sky, searching for the object making that noise, not paying attention to the road. You look up right before it happens.

“Carol, Watch out!”  SCREEEEEK!

She swerves off the road, after hitting the walker in your way– crashing into a tall Drive-IN sign.

“AHH! What the hell?!” Remy yelps in confusion, now squished in the floor behind the front seats. “Holy shit..Remy?! Are you okay?” You whip around to check your kid for any injuries– she’s fine– might be a bit sore later but thankfully nothing serious. 

“Fuck..I’m sorry. Are you two okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re good, are you?..”

“Carol, you’re bleeding.” You reach your hand up towards her forehead, there’s a 3-inch gash going from her hairline to right above her right eyebrow. It’s bleeding but not enough to be anything critical; you hope.

“I’ll be fine..Might have a major headache but I’m sure it’s nothing serious..” She takes another look in the sky searching for the plane again.

“What the hell happened? Why weren’t you watching the road?” You’re a little upset at the fact she put your kid in serious danger.

“I- I saw a plane or.. something above us. If we find it..” Carol looks at you as if she doesn’t need to explain anymore. She doesn’t, it’s like you two are connected telepathically, you get it. Remy’s up and in her seat looking at you two, a lost expression on her face.

“Y’know, It would be nice if you guys would finish your sentences once in a while, then maybe I’d be up to speed.” Carol gets out of the car to assess the damage done, while you turn to explain what you two were thinking. 

“I think the radiator is fucked. We’re gonna be on foot from here.” You and Remy get out of the car, gathering all of your belongings.

“The plane went that way.” Carol points where she last saw the plane heading.

“Okay..Rem, you got your stuff?”

“Yeah..I’m ready.” She confirms after putting her bag strap over her head.

That noise is back..which means the plane is close. All three of you look up in hopes of seeing it. “There..that’s the direction we need to go.” Carol points at the plane again before it disappears behind the tall trees.

“Alright, we should hurry before it gets too dark. I don’t wanna be out here on unfamiliar grounds with the dead walking.”

You couldn’t make it before dark but it was better than nothing. After a few hours of walking, you three come across a tall metal fence– not knowing if it was electric you ask Remy to keep back a little. Carol moves forward to scope the place out, once she knows it’s relatively safe she gives you two the signal to follow her.

There’s a large trap on the right side of the metal gate, the gate looks stable..and powered, a good thing that whoever lives here has power, a bad thing at the thought of what they had to do to keep this place secure. Carol motions for you to get under the large trap, stepping over the previous attempting the same. Remy’s the smallest out of all of you; no one would expect her to be able to lift something that heavy. 

“Okay, Rem get over here and pretend to get us out. Me and your Mom are gonna try and get this guy's attention.”

“Just follow what he says and we’ll be okay.” You reach your hand out through the gaps of the bars to caress her cheek.

“Yeah.. I got it.” She slightly smiles at you, reassuring you she’ll be fine.

“You ready?” 

“Always.” You put your arm back into the bars and position it to look lodged under the rusted metal prongs, Carol does the same.

“HELP!..SOMEBODY HELP!” You two shout loud enough to attract the man.

He comes up from behind the cliff, pointing a light–and gun– at you three. “Quiet! You’re gonna draw them..”  Carol explains what happened to our car, striking a deal with the man, spewing a bunch of bullshit like “Relying on the kindness of strangers”. 

“Is it just you three?” Carol nods. “You swear?” 

“Please..We won’t cause you any problems, I promise.” Remy being here made it a little easier for his guard to be let down; Him realizing she’s just a teenager.

“I’ll get you all fixed up..then you leave.” He opens the gate with some kind of remote. “One false move and I��ll shoot you.”

You and Remy are standing in the open barn waiting for Carol to finish cleaning up. Ash, the man who is helping you three, is standing right outside, gun in hand– waiting to shoot if need be. The power goes out unexpectedly, Carol stops what she’s doing and slowly looks over to Ash. 

“What’s that?” He looks a little impatient and sighs. “Problems with my generator..happens from time to time.” 

He walks away to go and fix the problem, trusting you three a tiny bit more, enough to leave you unguarded. Carol follows him out, still dabbing her forehead with the damp towel. Ash flips some switch on the generator and the power comes back on– a temporary fix.

“Have you ever hit a walker with your car?” Carol questions, trying to get him to open up a little. “No..” He gives a short response, obviously not wanting to engage in small talk with a stranger he just met, creeping around his walls.

“Hm.. You're lucky, I think I smashed the radiator”  He shoulders his gun, not thinking of you all to be too big of a threat.

 “You can spend the night here if you want..”

“Really?” Remy gives him a hopeful smile, excited to be sleeping within walls again. 

“Yeah. C'mon you three can stay out here in the barn” He leads You, Carol, and Remy out to a quaint, small barn, a little ways from what you assume is his house. Remy walks in first checking the place out, she thinks it's kinda ugly, considering her face is slightly scrunched. You go to walk in after her but realize Carol isn’t following you two. It’s like she’s frozen in time, somewhat shaking, as she starts to tear up.

Ash walks towards her slowly, gently grabbing her arm before you can, snapping her out of whatever trance she was in.

“Hey..You okay?” She looks at you with a dazed expression, blinking away her tears and pulling herself together. “Fine...C’mon let’s get inside.” Ash shuts the barn door behind him, turning the main lights on. You see Remy standing in front of– what you assume– is the plane you all saw earlier. Carol walks up behind her, rubbing her shoulder.

“Alright, you can sleep in there” Ash states, turning on the lights of your room for the night.

“You fly that thing?” He looks at the plane, longingly, as if he misses it.

“The noise attracts the dead but it's worth it, just to get up above everything for a while everyday” Remy looks at him with a genuine smile on her face. “It’s pretty cool, I’ve always wanted to fly in a plane.” He gently smiles back at her.

“Alright.. There you go”. He gestures towards the room, clearly wanting to get this awkward moment over with. You, Carol, and Remy make your way into the small room, getting as comfortable as you can. There's a few heavy blankets in the room as well so, at least you’ll be warm for the night.

“Thank you..for everything.” You turn to give him a lighthearted smile, keeping up this facade. Ash shuts and locks the door behind him, finally you and Carol have a moment to come up with another plan. You need to get him on your side somehow, he knows how to operate a plane, he's useful.

Remy is already dead-asleep, she’s always been a heavy sleeper. Something that will get you killed if you’re not careful but she knows she’s safe, especially with you and Carol.

“So..What are you thinking?” You and Carol sit down on the floor next to Remy, speaking in your normal tones, knowing she wouldn’t wake up if a tornado came through.

“I’m not entirely sure..We need to find out more about him. Somehow we need to stay longer, do some digging.”

“Alright..we can think about it more tomorrow, I don’t know about you but those blankets look really good right now.” Carol smirks at you, but not without looking at the make-shift bed herself. It does look very comfy.

“Goodnight Y/N.” She moves to get under the blankets, and get in her signature sleep postion, you do the same.

“Night Carol..” 

You can’t sleep, your mind is racing at the thought that Ash can help you find Daryl, and what you could do to get him on board with flying to Europe. You can’t stop thinking about all the negatives and everything that could go wrong while doing this, the plane won’t make it without a couple stops along the way–who knows what you’ll run into during them–, you could hit a bad storm and die in that death trap, you’d be putting your daughter at even more risk; flying into the unknown.

Is it worth it?.. Of course it is, it’s Daryl. You’ve made it this far you can’t give up now. You could never give up on Daryl, he’s done too much for you..for Remy. He’s family, you’d do anything for family–that’s what you thought when he first started going back outside the walls, looking for Rick after 10 years. Honestly It’d be a miracle if Rick was still alive but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Why would he not come back if he was still living, he knows where Alexandria is..Hilltop...

It feels like a long shot but if that’s what Daryl had to do to sleep at night, who were you to tell him no? You two made a deal, He would search for a little, but no more than a couple weeks at a time. That way he could still have a little peace in his life knowing that he’s trying but also spending time with his family, watching his kids grow.

The first fight you and Daryl had about the entire situation was stupid, the only reason it happened was because you were frustrated that you barely saw him anymore, that Remy barely saw him anymore. Daryl was frustrated because he felt like you didn’t want him looking anymore, that he should just give up, pretend like Rick never existed and move on with his life.

 You made up barely an hour later, both realizing you shouldn’t be arguing at a time like this. Tensions were high and it was a spur-of-the-moment argument. Your brain is getting foggy now, thinking of memories with Daryl made your mind calm. You’re falling asleep, now less anxious than you were when you first laid down, eager to wake up tomorrow and continue your search.

Hope you enjoyed! Like I said I spent alot of time on this so super excited!! Chapter 2 coming soon!! 💚💚

(also if you would like to see Remy’s design I had in mind dm me!!!)

Translations:

"Je t'aime de tout mon cœur." -- I love you with all my heart.